LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 



|;>u?. .-- ?-:..:, l/ipijriglTl |[o I 



^UNITED STATES OP AMERICA. | 



^// 4 5 .C \ x^^^Jk^ ^ SU^A^ 



THE 



DUCHESS RENEE 



AND 



HER COURT 



.t-> 




AMEEICAN TRACT SOCIETY, 

ISO NASSAU-STEEET, NEW YOEK. 






Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1872, by the 
American Tract Society, in tlie Office of the Librarian of Congress, 
at Washington. 



PREFACE 



It was a suggestion of one keenly alive to the 
interests of the youth of our land that historical 
sketches of those who had occupied high places 
in church and in state, would be a desirable ad- 
dition to the rapidly growing libraries for the 
young. Acting upon this suggestion the writer 
has gathered from various sources all that she 
could find touching the hfe and personal experi- 
ences of Renee of France. While she gives no 
references to the authorities consulted, she would 
have it clearly understood that this work is but a 
compilation, made in the hope that it may profit 
the youth of our country to study the character 
and example of one of whom they could obtain 
no knowledge, v/ithout consulting larger and 
more expensive works ; a course requiring time 
and research in public and private hbraries. 

The writer desires in particular to acknowledge 
her indebtness to a very interesting volume by 
an anonymous author, entitled " Some Memorials 
of Renee of France, (London, 1859,) " from which 
she has drawn many entire paragraphs, besides 
abridging so much as she has found to her pur- 
pose. L. B. 



C(3NrENTS. 



CHAPTEE I 



The King and Queen at the Castle of Blois — The Marshal 
of France — Eenee and the Peacocks page 7 

CHAPTEE II. 

The Death of Queen Anne — Louise of Savoy — The Mar- 
riage of Claude— The Death of Louis 21 

CHAPTEE III 

Disturbances in Italy — The Ducal Edict — The Marriage of 
Ercole — Entrance into Ferrara — Benee's Visit to Ven- 
ice—The Death of Duke Alfonso - 28 

CHAPTEE lY. 

Character of Ercole, Duke of Ferrara — The Duke's Visit 
to Eome — Congratulatory Visit to Charles V., at Na- 
ples — Calvin's Stay at Ferrara — Clement Marot — Learned 
Men at the Court of Ferrara 44 

CHAPTEE V. 

Academies— Olj^mpia Morata — Fulvio Morato — Curione — 
The Brothers Sinapi — Distinguished Ladies — The Pope's 
Visit to Ferrara 54 

CHAPTEE VI. 

Calvin's Letter to the Duchess of Ferrara — The Marriage 
of Anna d'Este to Francis, Duke of Guise — Olympia 
Morata banished from Ferrara — The Martyr Fannio, 
Giorgio Siculo — The Mission of Doctor Oriz — - - - 64 

CHAPTEE VII. 

• 

Keconciliation of Alfonso with the Duke — War in Italy — 
The Marriage of Prince Alfonso — Kenee's Kindness to 
the French Soldiers - 85 



6 CONTENTS. 

CHAPTEE VIII. 

Galeazzo Caraccioli — Calvin's Letter — Eeligious Persecu- 
tion in France — Death of Henry II. of France — Death 
of Ercole, Duke of Ferrara — Eenee the Head of State — 
Eenee Returns to France - 93 

CHAPTEE IX. 

The Changes wrought in Thirty Years — The Eival Houses 
of Bourbon aud Guise — Continued Persecution in 
France— La Eenaudie's Plan of Eevenge — Sympathy of 
Anne, Duchess of Guise— Correspondence on the Part 
of Olympia Morata 105 

CHAPTEE X. 

Convocation of the States-General — The Arrest of Conde — 
Death of Francis II. — Sir Nicholas Throkmorton - - 119 

CHAPTEE XI. 

The Triumvirate — Colloquy of Poissy — The Edict of Janu- 
ary — The Massacre of Vassy — Montargis — Malicorue 133 

CHAPTEE XII. 

Assassination of the Duke of Guise— Coligni, Soubise, and 
Beza Accused of Complicity — Calvin's Influence — Steps 
taken by the House of Guise — Calvin's Letter — A Glimpse 
of Eenee's Inner Life 154 

chaptee'xiii. 

EeconciUation of Coligni with the House of Guise — The 
Marriage of the Duchess Anna to the Duke de Nemours — 
Death of Calvin — Letter from the Eeformed Church at 
Antwerp — The Arrival of Alva — The Massacre of Or- 
leans 165 

CHAPTEE XIY. , 

Eenee and her Daughter, the Duchess of Nemours — The 
Princess Urbino — Lucrezia d'Este — Leonora d'Este — 
Last Days of Eenee 18G 




THE 



DUCHESS RENEE 



AND HER COURT. 



CHAPTEE I. 



The King and Queen at the Castle of Blois— The Marshal of 
France— Renee and the Peacocks. 

T was summer; the Castle of Blois 
was full of merry-making; the reins 
of goyernment for the time lay loose 
in the hands of King Louis; and 
Queen Anne, although an invalid, drank in 
health with the air she breathed. 

The castle was situated on a slight eleva- 




8 THE DUCHESS EENEE 

tion in tlie middle of tlie park. In the rear 
yines were planted, and groves of maple-trees, 
oak-trees, and elms, spread out their rich foli- 
age by the side of aspens, firs, and pine-trees. 
A massive wall of dark-gray stone completely 
surrounded the castle-grounds, broken here 
and there with gates, and overrun in places 
with bright-hued flowers that filled the air 
with their fragrance, and formed an agreeable 
feature in the landscape. 

The paths were well kept, the shrubbery 
presented a pleasing appearance, the birds 
sang gayly, there were swans and curiously 
mottled ducks swimming in the moat, and a 
fountain threw up its high column of water, 
which came down again in clouds of spray, 
falling into a marble basin fringed with pur- 
ple and white lilies. 

Under the trees there were placed orna- 
mental tables, settees, and chairs. In one of 
these sat the king. His dress was plain, but 
carefully arranged, and his entire bearing 
showed the easy good-nature of one who 
receives happiness himself from merely see- 
ing others happy. 



AND HEE COURT. 9 

Queen Anne reclined in a cushioned arm- 
chair of ample dimensions. She wore a dress 
of lavender-colored silk, and her head was 
covered with a cap of delicate lace, trimmed 
with ribbon of the same color as her dress. 
Groups of ladies and gentlemen were prome- 
nading under the trees, and a child of three 
summers was sporting with a small spaniel of 
spotless white. The action of the child Avas 
graceful, but her face was plain and her shoul- 
ders were round, as though distorted through 
suffering. In contrast to this deformity her 
eyes were bright and her hands and arms 
perfect. As she danced along the gravelled 
walk her gleeful laugh rang out and reached 
the spot where the king and queen sat under 
the sheltering trees. Conversation between 
the royal couple had been sprightly; now a 
sudden silence came over them, as they sat 
with eyes riveted upon the child in her merry 
gambols. 

Coming out from the vine-covered balcony, 
a beautiful girl in a full white dress now ap- 
peared. She had rich, dark hair, and her 
face, slightly flushed, beamed with youth and 



10 THE DUCHESS EENEE 

beauty. She held a half-open letter in her 
hand, and bowing gracefully to the groups of 
ladies and gentlemen as she passed, she made 
her way to the queen's chair. 

" It is a brilliant day," said the lady, as she 
stooped to kiss the hand of the queen. " It 
is happiness to see my mother able to enjoy it." 

"Thanks, dear child, I am infinitely better; 
and still I cannot deny but I would like to 
mingle in the merry sports of these young 
people. To watch Een6e in her play is 
enough almost to make one long to be a 
child again." 

" She is a sweet child, this little sister. But 
madame, your pardon; here is a letter. Will 
you have the goodness to read and advise me 
of the answer it is needful to give." 

Leaving the letter in her mother's hand, 
the Princess Claude turned with an easy grace 
to the king. 

"I am also commissioned with a message 
from Andrea : the new grounds are in readi- 
ness for your majesty's inspection, and he 
would know your pleasure with regard to 
them." 



AND HER COURT. 11 

" Completed already !" exclaimed the king. 
" Surely Andrea is no laggard." 

"A king so good and true to his subjects, 
is worthy of their love. Andrea seeks to give 
your majesty a pleasant surprise. Shall we 
go this evening?" 

A rare smile came to the king's lips, as he 
looked into her bright face, and his hand toy- 
ed lovingly with her long curls. 

" It was the express command of the king 
that Blois should be made a scene of enchant- 
ment during our stay; relaxation from ques- 
tions of state is what we need, and our invahd 
requires continual diversion." 

"A most loving, as well as gracious king," 
returned the smiling Claude. 

The queen had finished the letter, and sat 
with heightened color on her cheeks, and the 
dehcate missive crushed in her hand. So 
much interested in each other, the small party 
did not perceive that a gentleman drew near, 
as if to speak to them. Claude was the first 
to notice him, and waving her hand beckoned 
him to approach. 

'' To judge from your majesty's appearance, 



12 THE DUCHESS KEN^E 

one would think the fountain of youth to be 
found in the vicinity of Blois," said the gen- 
tleman, bowing low before the queen, and at 
the same time courteously lifting her hand to 
his lips. 

"A pleasure that we hardly anticipated, 
marshal," said the queen, with a smile. 

" My duty brought me to Blois, and I could 
not deny myself the pleasure of paying my 
respects to your majesties." 

" Never more welcome than at present, Mar- 
shal de Trivulzio. Pray what news do you 
bring ?" said the king, extending his hand. 

" Your majesty's subjects are stirred by no 
deeper feeling at present, than curiosity to 
know who is to possess the medal your maj- 
esty has had the goodness to have struck." 

" And a determination to abide by the mot- 
to, ' Ferdam Bahylonis nomen'?'' asked the 
king with uncommon warmth. 

"Would to God it might be so!" was the 
simple answer. 

Unconsciously the eyes of Marshal de Tri- 
vulzio wandered to Een6e. Tired of play she 
had settled down in the arms of her " bonne." 



AND HER COUET. 13 

who was singing in a low voice one of lier 
Breton songs. The king's words recalled 
him. 

"No other news, marshal? Your budget 
is but scanty." 

The abstracted look on the face of the mar- 
shal was gone, and a quick light shot through 
his eyes. The king perceived it. 

" Rather, I came for news," said the mar- 
shal. " Prmcess Claude was so gracious as to 
inform me that Count d'Angouleme will be 
here to-morrow." 

"He has sent word to that effect," replied 
the king, his eyes glowing with tenderness as 
they rested upon the blushing face of Claude. 
A spasm of pain shot over the queen's face, 
but she mastered herself and said nothing. 
Shght as it was the movement did not escape 
Marshal de Trivulzio. He had come pur- 
posely to see if the queen still felt an aver- 
sion to the union of Claude with Francis, the 
youthful heir to the crown. A scheming, am- 
bitious woman might do much to mar the 
happiness of a people, intent upon seeing 
the daughter of their sovereign, by her mar- 



14 THE DUCHESS EENEE 

riage, still seated upon the throne of her 
father. 

Strictly courteous, the marshal turned with 
a playful remark to Ren6e. The charm of 
his manner was irresistible, for with a timid 
grace the little princess stepped forward and 
held up, not her hands, but her lips for a 
kiss. 

The courtiers were filled with suppressed 
laughter. 

" A favor that the princess has never ac- 
corded to me," said the Duke of Bourbon 
with a low bow. 

A grave look settled upon Kenee's face, and 
she clung still closer to the marshal's hand. 

" An honor that your baton does not bring. 
One might almost be tempted to give the half 
of a duchy for it," said Count de Berri with a 
pleasant laugh. 

"For all that, our little favorite shall not 
give you a smile," exclaimed Madame de 
Bouchaige, bowing with inimitable grace to 
the young count, and adding, " I am commis- 
sioned by one whom the princess dearly loves, 
to make known to her royal highness that the 



AND HER COUET. 15 

peacocks have arrived. Shall we go to see 
them? It will be worth while to note how 
her ladyship wiQ receive them." 

" If her majesty is able to walk as far," re- 
turned Marshal de Trivulzio turning to the 
queen's chak. 

"You will see how really strong I have 
grown," said the queen rising. 

"Will it not fatigue your majesty.?" whis- 
pered Claude. " Would it not be as well to 
have them brought here ?" 

"It will be an agreeable diversion, child. 
I cannot bear to mar the happiness of my 
friends by always being the invalid that I 
am." 

" Dear mother, our only unhappiness is in 
the dread that you may not always be with 
us." 

The king, a vigorous manly ilgure, and of 
noble bearing, waved his hand for the com- 
pany to advance. Count de Berri offered his 
arm to Claude. Marshal de Trivulzio looked 
for his little pet and was surprised to see her 
mounted on the shoulder of one of the attend- 
ants. He bowed pohtely to Madame de Bour- 



16 THE DUCHESS EEN:6E 

bon, and offered his arm. The king and 
queen followed. The ladies and gentlemen 
were everywhere conversing merrily, and 
without restraint. 

It= was a pleasure to see this fair, royal 
couple, so stately and noble. In the truest 
sense the king was the "father of the peo- 
ple," and the qualities of his wiie commanded 
his love, esteem and honor. 

The improvements of which the Princess 
Claude had spoken, consisted of a white mar- 
ble pavilion, commanding a view of a verdant 
meadow surrounded with box-trees, with grot- 
toes, and arbors gracefully dispersed among 
thick copses, pleasant walks, terraces, and 
lawns. 

Before the door of the pavilion two peacocks 
were pluming themselves. When the king 
and queen y\%Te seated, the courtiers with- 
drew a little into the background, leaving 
Ben^e absorbed in unrestrained delight. 
Unmindful of royalty, the magnificent crea- 
tures arched their necks and trailed their 
splendid feathers across the velvet lawn ; then 
gracefully turning, gave them a fan-like form. 



AND HEE COURT. 17 

the brilliant colors catching the sun's rays, 
and flashing back like diamonds. Admira- 
tion was at its height. The little princess 
clapped her hands, her whole figure was 
tremulous with joy, her eyes danced, and 
with childish eagerness she rushed forward to 
embrace them. The stately creatures were 
unaccustomed to such familiarity, and half in 
fear and half in anger, they gave a loud, 
piercing cry. The effect was instantaneous. 
Beauty would not compensate for such a hid- 
eous voice. Een^e hid her face in Suzette's 
gown, neither could she again be persuaded 
to go near them. 

The queen smiled and turned to the king; 
but there were tears in her eyes. 

"Our poor httle Een^e is far from being 
attractive in person, like these gorgeous pea- 
cocks; but her eyes show a soul of superior 
worth, and her conversation will fascinate 
some whom personal beauty alone would fail 
to charm." 

The king's face evinced the satisfaction that 
he felt. He pressed the hand of the invalid 
tenderly, and unconsciously the eyes of each 

Duchess Eeuiie. A 



18 THE DUCHESS EENJ&E 

wandered from Renee to Claude. The latter 
was beautiful and good, but she would soon 
go from them, while Renege would be theirs 
for years to come, and the unfolding of her 
mind would be a pleasure to compensate for 
the lack of external beauty. 

The windows of the castle were open, and 
the music of a harpsichord floated out to the 
pavilion where the king and queen were seat- 
ed. A sudden silence seized the courtiers; 
they listened to catch the soft, sweet, and 
mournfully tender strains. 

"Some one," said Claude, "finds the castle 
empty, and takes this means to recall us." 

" No one plays like that but Marguerite de 
Yalois," said Madame de Bourbon. " Let us 
return at once." 

" We must wait their majesties' pleasure," 
was the answer. 

Through the open door a distinguished 
looking man was seen walking in the direc- 
tion of the pavilion. He wore the simple 
dress of a citizen, and the thick hair on his 
head was as white as the linen he wore round 
his neck. His eyes were bright as they had 



AND HER COURT. 19 

been in youth, and liis entire appearance be 
spoke the man of culture and refinement. 

It was the court physician, who now ap 
proached the queen. 

" Tour majesty," he began, " I have already 
had the honor of pointing out to you the ne- 
cessity of extreme caution, if you hope to 
recover the health which you have lost. Best 
and perfect calm are the chief requisites ; and 
I see by the fiush on your cheeks that your 
mind has been agitated unwisely. 

The king looked at the queen and sighed 
heavily. 

" Do not distress yourself," said the queen, 
with an effort to be gay. " It is the heat that 
gives the color to my cheeks. Roddi is too 
careful of me. I really feel quite strong, and 
the happiness I have enjoyed will make me 
long for it again." 

"A pleasure that your majesty can look 
forward to, if prudent," answered the phy- 
sician, with a bow. "In the meantime let 
me entreat you to return to the castle, where 
music and the society of a dear friend await 
you." 



20 THE DUCHESS EEN:6E. 

The king spoke a few words to liis wife, 
then offering her his arm, together they left 
the pavihon. 

" ' Music, and the society of a dear friend 1' 
I am at a loss to know who it may be," said 
the queen in a low tone. 

Princess Claude had been walking with the 
court physician. Now she quietly slipped 
from his side' to whisper into her mother's 
ear. 

" The friend is Marguerite de Yalois. Will 
it please you to see her at once, or are you 
too much fatigued?" 

A flush of beauty brightened the face of the 
fair child. The mother's lip trembled, and 
she leaned heavily on the arm of the king. 

"You tremble; you are ill, dear mother," 
continued Claude. 

" No, no ; not ill, as long as you are left to 
me, Claude. Marguerite de Valois! Yes, I 
will see her immediately," and hastening, the 
king and queen entered the castle. 




CHAPTER II. 



The Death of Queen Anne— Louise of Savoy— The Marriage 
of Claude— The Death of Louis. 



^LIGHTFUL as v/as the summer at 
^«^^^ Blois, it was the last that Queen 
^^^^^ Anne was permitted to spend there. 
As the days deepened into autumn, the good 
queen saw that she must be separated from 
her daughters, and with the wise aspiration 
for Ren6e, that as she grew to womanhood 
the superior cultivation of her mind might 
compensate for any deficiency in personal 
charms, she chose Madame de Soubise, a 
Breton lady, and one of her former maids of 
honor, to conduct the education of her young- 
er daughter when she herself should be no 
more. "The important trust was well be- 
stowed, duly appreciated, and faithfully dis- 
charged." Madame de Soubise was no ordi- 



22 THE DUCHESS EEN£E 

nary woman. Gifted with, an intellect of a 
high order, she had received the best instruc- 
tion that the age could afford, and her man- 
ners were as pleasing as her intelligent con- 
versation was profitable. She had embraced 
the reformed doctrine, so that Een^e's reli- 
gious predilections in later years were no 
doubt to be attributed in part to the early 
lessons of her teacher. 

In the character of Anne of Bretagne, we 
find superior intellectual attainments, a most 
affectionate nature, and the noblest virtues 
allied to faults the most opposite. With no- 
ble aspirations after what was great and good, 
Anne was haughty, ambitious, and vindictive. 
Her ambition was rebuked by the death of 
one son after another, until she had the bit- 
terness of knowing that the throne of France 
must pass to the son of Louise of Savoy, 
Duchess of Angouleme, a woman whom she 
hated. 

Stung to the heart by this unwelcome cer- 
tainty, Queen Anne employed the energies of 
her mind in forming brilliant matrimonial 
projects for her daughters. Before Claude 



AND HEB COURT. 23 

had attained lier second birthday, she was 
affianced to Charles of Austria, an infant of 
nearly the same age as herself. But her more 
prudent husband, Louis XII., saw at a glance 
that France would be ruined by the dismem- 
berment to which such a step would inevita- 
bly lead, and Claude was betrothed, not to 
Charles, but to Francis, son of the Count of 
Angouleme and Louise of Savoy. The natu- 
ral kindness of the king permitted Anne to 
delay the marriage, but she never overcame 
her aversion; and could she have foreseen 
the misery of Claude's wedded Ufe, more per- 
severing than ever would have been her efforts 
to prevent that unhappy union. 

The failure of her plans for Claude, how- 
ever, did not check the mother's ambition. 
True, Een^e was eleven years younger than 
her sister, and a deformed child ; but her in- 
telligence made one forget that the single gift 
of beauty was not hers. Scarcely had Een^e 
seen three summers, before the queen pre- 
vailed upon Louis to transfer to his future 
son-in-law his claims on Milan, Asti, and 
Genoa, as the dowry of Een^e in the event 



24 THE DUCHESS EENEE 

of her marriage with either the Archduke 
Charles, or his younger brother Ferdinand. 
Such were the plans of Anne of Bretagne, 
even while the shadow of death was upon 
her. She died at Blois when Een^e was but 
four years old ; with her last breath commit- 
ting both of her children to the care of Louise 
of Sayoy. 

This step, which at first seems contradictory 
to the very nature of Anne, shows the deep 
insight of the woman, as well as the all-ab- 
sorbing love of the mother. "Would not this 
confidence win upon the better nature of the 
woman who was destined to become the 
mother-in-law of Claude, and thus avert her 
malice from the unoffending children of her 
former enemy? However this may be, it is 
certain that both Claude and Een^e found a 
faithful friend in the daughter of Louise, Mar- 
guerite de Talois. 

A few months after the death of the queen, 
Claude was married to Francis, who, as Louis 
XII. survived his wife but a year and a day, 
succeeded to the throne on the first of Janu- 
ary, 1515. 



AND HER COUET. 25 

Under the care of " Good Queen Claude," 
and tlie wise teacliing of Madame de Soubise, 
Ren6e, now an orphan, improved rapidly; 
and so far from her personal plainness proving 
an obstacle to her being sought after in mar- 
riage, she numbered in her list of suitors the 
most celebrated men of the age. We have 
seen that she was contracted to the Archduke 
Charles during her father's hfetime. This 
arrangement having been set aside, Ferdi- 
nand was next spoken of. Charles, Duke of 
Bourbon, followed, and, it was said, he had 
some prospect of success. But princes 
and princesses cannot choose for themselves. 
Francis' consent was not to be won, and the 
hatred of Louise having been excited against 
the Duke of Bourbon, another alliance must 
be sought. 

Queen Claude was a loving sister ; but she 
had much to endure in the neglect of her hus- 
band, and before the completion of her twenty- 
fifth year, she died in the arms of Een^e, 
July 26, 1524. To the sensitive child it 
was a severe bereavement, but Een^e mourn- 
ed not alone. The burghers and people of 



26 THE DUCHESS EENifiE 

France long revered her as their "Good 
Queen Claude," and even the heart of Francis 
was touched into pity. Kings have no time 
to weep. Francis was on his way to Italy 
when he heard of his wife's illness. He 
paused at Bourges until all was over, and 
then prepared for the realization of his dream 
of conquest in northern Italy. 

All this time Princess Een6e was being dis- 
posed of much as a piece in a game of chess. 
Henry YIII. of England meditating a divorce 
from Catherine of Aragon, was not withheld 
by any considerations of delicacy from solicit- 
ing the hand of Marguerite de Yalois, the 
now widowed Duchess d'Alencon. The per- 
sonal friend of Catherine, Marguerite did not 
hesitate long in rejecting the royal suitor; 
whereupon the monstrous king dared to make 
an offer for the youthful Ben6e — a proposition 
which, strange to say, found some favor in the 
eyes of Louise of Savoy. 

It was, however, the struggle of Francis I. 
against the emperor in Italy, that decided the 
marriage destiny of Ren^e. Alfonso I., Duke 
of Ferrara, had thus far been on the side of 



AND HEE COUKT. 27 

Charles Y. An hereditary vassal of the See 
of Rome, he had been driven by the unjust 
animosity of Popes Julius II. and Leo X., to 
take up arms in his own defence, and had 
maintained against them a long and exhaust- 
ing warfare. It was deemed expedient to win 
him from the emperor, and the allies reward- 
ed his compliance by promising him the invest- 
iture of the Duchy of Ferrara, so long with- 
held by the court of Eome, and with it the 
hand of the Princess Ren^e in marriage to his 
eldest son, Ercole d' Este. 





CHAPTER III. 

Disturbances in Italy— Tlie Ducal Edict— Tlie Marriage of 
Ercole— Entrance into Ferrara— Renee's Visit to Yenice— 
The Death of Duke Alfonso. 



HE reformed religion had not only 
readied Italy, but its principles were 
extensively diffused at different courts, 
and especially at Ferrara. Tlie erudition and 
energy witli which German writers treated 
theological subjects, were extremely attractive 
to Italian scholars. The study of Greek facil- 
itated the examination of Scripture, and the 
cultivation of the intellect prepared the way 
for a fuller comprehension of the high pre- 
rogative which God has conferred on man as 
an immortal being. The learned studied the 
gospel in its original tongue, commented with 
critical accuracy on difficult passages, and 
soon became convinced that the grandeur 
and simphcity of the Christian religion had 



THE DUCHESS EEN:6E. 29 

been debased and obscured by the inventions 
of man. 

In Modena, we find that Paolo Kicci, a Si- 
cihan monk and a doctor in theology, began 
secretly to read and expound the epistles of 
St. Paul, and to unfold the doctrines of the 
Scriptures. A powerful interest was awaken- 
ed ; both men and women began to converse 
in private and in public, about faith and the 
necessity of a new birth. But the papal 
power, true to its traditionary dread of free 
discrfssion on the oracles of God, contrived 
to arrest the illumination by persuading the 
Duke of Ferrara to have Eicci arrested and 
confined in the castle of Modena. 

About this time there were various disputes 
between the monks of the different religious 
orders, who went so far as to inveigh against 
each other from the pulpit. Their conduct 
was so irregular, that the governor thought it 
his duty to report their proceedings to the 
Duke of Ferrara. An order was issued in 
consequence, forbidding any monk to mount 
the pulpit without the permission of the vicar- 
general of the diocese. 



30 THE DUCHESS EEN^E 

The news of the religious disturbances at 
Modena soon reached the ears of the pontiff. 
It was the first impulse of the pope to fulmi- 
nate an excommunication against such of the 
Modenese as had openly declared their heret- 
ical opinions; but Cardinal Sadoleto, himseK 
a native of Modena, used every effort to allay 
the irritation and to bring forward measures 
of conciliation. Notwithstanding this, the 
pope wrote to the Duke of Ferrara request- 
ing him to cite the members of the Academy 
to Rome, Bologna, or Ferrara ; and, bttt for 
Sadoleto's exertions in favor of his fellow- 
citizens, more severe measures would have 
been taken. 

Next followed a ducal edict, by which it 
was forbidden to keep any heretical books in 
the house, or to dispute either in public or in 
private about religion, under the penalty of a 
fine of a hundred crowns of gold, or four 
strokes of the whip for the first offence; for 
the second, two thousand crowns of gold and 
banishment ; for the third, a complete confis- 
cation of property and a cruel death. 

Never, during the long wars waged by the 



AND HEK COUET. 31 

Duke of Ferrara, did tie issue so oppressive 
a law. The Academy took the hint, and dis- 
persed. The most sincere reformers escaped 
to other lands, where they openly professed 
the gospel; the lukewarm remained and con- 
formed. 

The history of the Modenese Academy pre- 
sents a scene of the struggle which was going 
on throughout Italy between intellect and 
bigotry : the phantom of spiritual power ter- 
rifying through temporal oppression ; the 
hearts of the people vacillating between hope 
and despair ; scholars studying in secret ; 
braving the pope, or flying to distant coun- 
tries for that protection denied them in their 
own. 

The marriage of Ercole, the son of Alfonso 
I., with Een^e of France, brought great re- 
joicing to the Protestant cause; for it intro- 
duced into Italy a princess acquainted with 
the Scriptures and accustomed to reverence 
their divine authority. While striving to se- 
cure as his ally the Duke of Ferrara, Francis 
had not given a thought to the danger that 
might accrue to his sister on account of her 



32 THE DUCHESS RENEE 

religious faitli. The Duke of Ferrara was not 
more considerate; or, perhaps, he failed to 
comprehend that a young princess, hardly 
emerged from childhood, could have any 
definite opinions of her own with respect to 
religion. 

Be this as it may, we find Ercole d'Este, 
the young heir of the Duke of Ferrara, setting 
out for France. This was a great alliance for 
the son of a petty Italian prince. Een6e was 
interesting by her youth, and in addition to 
her illustrious parentage, she was endowed 
with every good gift, except that of personal 
beauty. Her original powers had been de- 
veloped by severe study. Nor was she less 
distinguished for her moral excellence ; in her 
noble nature were combined purity of motive 
and generosity of heart. Her charities flowed 
freely to the needy, the desolate, and the op- 
pressed. As for her deportment, it was as 
courteous as it was majestic ; she knew how 
to preserve the respect due to her rank, while 
she won all hearts by the modesty of her 
bearing, and the charm of her conversational 
powers. 



AND HEE COUKT. 83 

The young Ercole was cordially welcomed 
by Francis, and so favorably did lie impress 
the French court, that in less than two months 
the marriage was celebrated with great pomp 
and splendor, June 28th, 1528. The Duke 
of Ferrara sent the bride a rich present of jew- 
els. Ercole took the title of Duke of Chartres. 

The newly-married couple were prevented 
from proceeding immediately to Ferrara, by 
the plague which was raging there. Since 
the sack of Eome, famine and disease had 
prevailed in Italy. Famine had been fore- 
stalled by the provident care of Duke Alfonso, 
who had imported large quantities of corn; 
but for the pestilence no effectual remedy was 
known. Moreover, it brought with it such 
appalling terror, that many died from alarm. 
Twenty thousand are said to have perished 
during the summer months. As autumn deep- 
ened, the virulence of the disease began to 
abate. The streets of Ferrara were well nigh 
depopulated, and the remaining inhabitants 
were plunged in the deepest dejection. The 
duke was unwearied in his efforts to calm and 
soothe the public mind ; bells were forbidden 

DucliL'Ss Keuee. 3 



34 THE DUCHESS EENEE 

to be tolled for the dead, incense was burned, 
perfumes inhaled, and medicated oil used 
freely. 

On the first of November, Ercole and his 
royal bride prepared to leave Paris for Italy. 
Een^e was accompanied by her governess 
Madame de Soubise, and her governess' 
daughter, Anne de Parthenai, an accomplish- 
ed and Christian maiden, as well as by more 
than a dozen young ladies of rank, dressed in 
the costume of the French court. 

Alfonso, in honor of his son's bride, gave 
orders that all mourning should be laid aside. 
Families which had quitted the city at the 
time of the plague were encouraged to return. 
The markets were again held, the churches 
opened, the professors and students of the uni- 
versity reassembled, and everything was done 
to give the afflicted city an air of cheerfulness 
and joy. 

The duke, accompanied by the chief nobles, 
went as far as Keggio, to meet the bridal pro- 
cession. On the twelfth of November Een^e 
entered Modena. She was received at the 
gate of St. Agostino under a rich canopy, by 



AND HER COURT. 35 

tlie clergy and people. Mounted on a stately 
Spanish barb, slie rode between the duke and 
her young brother-in-law, IjDpolito, archbish- 
op of Milan. Her husband accompanied her 
on horseback, and they went in procession to 
the cathedral. Several days were passed in 
receiving entertainments and exchanging pres- 
ents. 

But the splendor of Een^e's reception at 
Modena was nothing compared with the pomp 
and magnificence of her entry into Ferrara. 
Een^e was first conducted to the Belvidere, 
a beautiful villa which Alfonso had built on 
a triangular island in the Po, close under the 
walls of Ferrara. . This villa was a magnifi- 
cent palace, of admirable architecture and 
vast extent. It was the spot the duke loved 
best of all his domain. There he retked to 
meditate plans of defence and security, and 
to snatch a moment's repose from the bur- 
dens of state. The chapel was painted by 
Rossi and Dossi, two famous artists of the 
day, and the place was surrounded by gar- 
dens of great beauty, in which was collected 
everything which could soothe the senses and 



36 THE DUCHESS REN^E 

charm the eyes. Here were shady walks, 
groves, parterres, gushing fountains, and in- 
viting paths which led by an easy descent to 
the river. The rarest plants and richest fruit- 
trees grew in abundance. Part of the island 
was stocked with a variety of animals ; birds 
of every kind, both wild and tame, flitted 
from bough to bough, and found there a 
peaceful shelter. Everywhere the grounds 
were tastefully laid out in a picturesque style 
not common in Italy. 

From this charming retreat, Een6e was 
rowed in a superb "bucentoro" on the Po, 
to the city of Ferrara. A crown of gold was 
on her head, and her dress glittered with the 
richest jewels. Entering by the gate of St, 
Paolo, under a splendid canopy, with cannon 
booming and bells ringing in token of rejoi- 
cing, she was carried in a chair through the 
principal streets, which were draped with the 
national colors — red, white, and green cloth. 
In her train walked eighty noble pages dress- 
ed in crimson jackets, wearing rose-colored 
caps with white feathers, and bearing red 
wands in their hands. 



AND HEE COUET. 37 

The bridal party was preceded by the cler- 
gy and the learned men, and followed by the 
nobility. At the cathedral the young couple 
received the nuptial benediction from the 
bishop of Commacchioj and the Castellano 
presented to the bride the keys of the city 
upon a silver salver. The procession now 
directed its way to the Este palace, which was 
beautifully adorned with costly tapestry, heir- 
looms of the house of Este. The sounds of 
mourning were hushed, while public specta- 
cles and magnificent entertainments celebra- 
ted the arrival of the yoimg princess of France 
at the court of Alfonso. 

It is possible that the Ferrarese courtiers, 
who remembered the surpassing beauty of 
their former duchess, Lucrezia Borgia, may 
have been struck with a painful sense of con- 
trast when they first looked upon Eende. 
The daughter of Louis XII., however, speed- 
ily disappointed their expectations ; concilia- 
ting their esteem by the purity of her charac- 
ter, and winning their affections by her affa- 
bility and grace. It was soon felt that, though 
the charm of personal beauty had been with- 



38 ^ THE DUCHESS RENeE 

held from Ren^e, the want was compensated 
by the rare attainments of her mmd. 

As soon as the festivities in honor of her 
arrival in Ferrara were over, Rente's literary 
tastes began to develop. The court quickly 
became the seat of learning and the home of 
learned men. Science received an impulse 
which it maintained in Ferrara during many 
brilliant years. Professors and scholars of 
the university who had been scattered far and 
wide, were recalled by an edict of Alfonso, 
and that famous seat of learning, under the 
patronage of Ren^e, fast recovered its former 
lustre. 

Living in a Roman-catholic country, and 
the wife of a Catholic prince, Ren^e had great 
difficulties to overcome, and many hard trials 
to encounter. Greatly attached to her gov- 
erness, Madame de Soubise, she was thor- 
oughly acquainted with the views of the 
reformers, while her mind was filled vnth 
Scriptural truth, and her heart permeated 
with Divine love. 

When Ren6e left France persecution had 
already begun, for the reformed doctrines had 



AND HER COUKT. 39 

taken deep root. The venerable Le Fevre 
d'Estaples had spoken words of peace from 
the gospel. Brigonnet, the hberal bishop of 
Meaux, was in correspondence with the Duch- 
ess d' Alengon. And her mother, Louise, hs- 
tened to some of the enlightened preachers of 
Meaux. Francis, indeed, was not as tolerant. 
Marguerite's influence, however, was strong; 
for when the Chancellor Du Prat obliged Le 
Fevre to fly, Marguerite declared herself his 
friend, and procured him the appointment of 
tutor to one of the king's sons. Not only 
this; it was Marguerite's influence that ena- 
bled Le Fevre to bring out a French translation 
of the New Testament, a copy of which Een^e 
carried with her to Italy. 

The Duke of Ferrara, although more of a 
warrior than a scholar, took great delight in 
the society of learned men. The great poet 
Ariosto was often invited to his table, and 
employed by him on important missions. 
Notwithstanding the patronage of the duke, 
Ariosto did not enjoy that tranquillity and 
freedom from care which are desirable for 
the cultivation of the muses. The poet was 



40 THE DUCHESS RENEE 

a very absent-minded man; and we are told 
that wlien lie was living at Carpi lie went ont 
one morning in liis slippers to take a walk; 
absorbed in tlionglit, or in composition, he 
continued walking until he found himself half- 
way to Ferrara, before he discovered his 
mistake. 

'Ren6e, with her bright, childhke ways, was 
very fond of the poet, conversing with him by 
the hour, and doing what she could to favor 
his love of study and meditation. Tasso, the 
father of Torquato Tasso, was also a member 
of the ducal family. 

Duke Alfonso was a patron of the fine arts, 
especially painting, and added to the Este 
gallery several fine pictures of Titian. He 
understood music, delighted in architecture, 
and was a thorough judge of arms and fal- 
conry. 

The birth of the eldest child of Renee and 
Ercole took place on the 16tli of November, 
1531. The infant was a daughter. Never- 
theless the old duke was pleased to accept 
it with favor, and even besought Pope 
Clement YII. to act as sponsor. The pope 



AND HER COURT. 41 

knew not how to refuse, but lie chose as his 
proxy for the occasion Cardinal Ippetito cle 
Medici, who, on his part, also selected a dep- 
uty in Francesco Guicciardini, the governor of 
Bologna. Alfonso said nothing, and Renee's 
scant reverence for the papal court was sen- 
sibly diminished. The sacred rite was per- 
formed at Ferrara with great splendor, the 
infant receiving the name of Anna in memory 
of her grandmother, Anne of Bretagne. 

The name of Rende stands first in the hst 
of pakons of a charitable institution estab- 
lished at Ferrara during a period of famine. 
The preaching of a zealous Dominican had 
called the attention of the wealthy to the 
wants of the poor, and the result was the 
founding of the " Monte delle Farine," dedi- 
cated to St. John, to w^hich they appro- 
priated a mill in furtherance of the ob- 
jects of charity. Eenee's patronage of this 
benevolent undertaking won her a place in the 
hearts of her subjects, and blinded them to 
what in another would have been alleged as 
heresy. 

Two years afterwards we find Ferrara re- 



42 THE DUCHESS REN£E 

joicing over the birtli of a prince, who was 
named Alfonso, after the duke, his grand- 
father. 

The spring following, "Een^e, greatly de- 
siring to -visit Venice, set out from Ferrara 
with a goodly number of ladies and horses, 
and went up to Francelino on a long barge, 
all covered with brocade and cloth of gold, 
followed by a barge like unto it, but covered 
with crimson-colored satin, and by many oth- 
er barges. Thus went she towards Chioggia, 
when she was met by the nobility of that city, 
with a quantity of smaller boats ; and to do 
honor to such a noble stranger, races and 
maritime games were enacted in those waters, 
at the sight of which Madama and all took 
great pleasure, and highly praised the invent- 
or of such pleasant diversions. And so going 
onward, they were met at Malamocco by the 
doge and all the signoria, and with sounds of 
trumpets, pipes, and drums. After disem- 
barking with rejoicings, she was conducted to 
Venice, where she stayed some days in divers 
palaces." 

Paul III., a member of the Farnese family, 



AND HER COURT. 43 

who succeeded Pope Clement, liad been 
geatly benefited by the Borgias, with whom 
the Duke Alfonso was connected by marriage, 
and under his pontificate the duke looked 
forward to years of tranquilhty. But just as 
he obtained the repose he had so long sought, 
he was seized with an illness which from the 
first he felt assu.red y/oulcl be his last. His 
forebodings proved true, for he died a few 
days after Rente's return from Yenice, ex- 
pressing resignation to the will of God, but to 
the inexpressible grief of his people, who felt 
that they would never find another such 
prince. 




CHAPTEE lY. 




Character of Ercole, Duke of Ferrara— The Duke's Visit to . 
Eome — Congratulatory Yisit to Charles V., at Naples- 
Calvin's Stay at Ferrara— Clement Marot — Learned Men 
at the Court of Ferrara. 

^ECOLE II., tlie liusband of EeiK^e, 
succeeded liis father as Duke of Fer- 
rara. He is described as "a prince 
of fine presence, above tlie ordinary stature", 
of grave speech, yet, witlial, pleasant, splen- 
did, magnanimous, clement." He was devo- 
ted to liis religion, not only building churches, 
but aiding in the foundation of conventual 
establishments, and introducing foreign reli- 
gious fraternities into Ferrara. He was kind- 
ly disposed towards his subjects, but his love 
of splendor and his desire for peace led him 
to adopt a policy of unworthy compliances. 
Spending little upon the operations of v\^ar, 
he squandered treasure on the pageants of a 



THE DUCHESS KENEE. 45 

clay ; wliile his piety soon assumed tiie form 
of bigotry that spared in its exercise neither 
his subjects nor the partner of his ducal 
state. 

The late duke, just before his death, pur- 
posed sending Ercole to Eome on a congrat- 
ulatory mission ; but now that he had become 
a sovereign prince, it was a still greater com- 
pliment for him to pay the pope a visit in 
person. Accordingly he set out, accompanied 
by a splendid retinue of young nobles, su- 
perbly dressed in vests embroidered with 
gold, and wearing massive gold chains. Their 
pages and footmen were all in velvet liveries. 
In their train were a number of trumpeters 
and musicians, who travelled in wagons and 
on mules. 

When they entered Eome they were greet- 
ed with the sound of martial music, and the 
guns were fired from the castle of St. Angelo. 
The pope's guard, the cardinals, and the am- 
bassadors went out in procession to meet the 
young Duke of Ferrara. The splendor of the 
pageant made a sensation in Kome, and 
brought the entire population into the streets. 



46 THE DUCHESS EENEE 

But this welcome rec^tion did not expedite 
the object of his visit. When Ercole asked 
the pope to ratify the decision of Charles Y., 
in favor of the dukes of Ferrara, the cardinals 
made difficulties and took time to consider. 
Weary of this delay, Ercole employed the in- 
terval in paying, at Naples, a congratulatory 
visit to the Emperor Charles, who had just 
returned from his victorious expedition to Tu- 
nis, and who willingly gratified the duke by a 
renewal of the imperial investiture. 

We find Een6e at this time not only the 
centre of a brilliant court, surrounded by 
learned men who delighted in her favor, but 
a careful Christian mother, ordering her 
household, and caring as a woman for the 
interest of all with whom she had to do. 

To her list of friends Een6e now added the 
young reformer, John Calvin. She had made 
his acquaintance during her visit to Yenice, 
and soon after her return he came in disguise 
to Ferrara to pay the duchess a visit. Ar- 
riving in company with Louis du Tillet, 
brother of the canon of ' Angouleme, the two 
Frenchmen were presented to the duke as 



AND HER COUBT. 47 

travellers visiting the courts of Italy. Calvin 
liad assumed the name of Charles d'Espe- 
ville, his own name being too well known as 
the champion of heresy. 

The reformer's heart yearned over the clas- 
sic land of Italy, and leaped within him at 
the joyful promise which it offered of being 
won over to the Gospel. Knowing Sense's 
piety and her favorable disposition towards 
the reformers, he indulged the hope that her 
court might become a centre, as well as a ref- 
uge, for those who were desirous of seeing the 
church undergo a reformation so complete as 
to restore it to its primitive purity and sim- 
plicity. His visit was well timed, for his 
acute and sagacious mind knew well that the 
favor of the new pope would possibly be 
more perilous for gospel doctrine than the 
former enmity of the papal see. 

Calvin had just finished his immortal work, 
" L'Institution Chr^tienne," a book which 
proves him to have been gifted with those 
rare endowments which di\ine Providence 
from time to time bestows on the few, who 
are born to influence mankind and lead them 



48 THE DUCHESS EENEE 

to higher measures of spiritual and intellect- 
ual knowledge. Such minds teach us to 
adore the Creator's power, and give us a sen- 
sible foretaste of heavenly communion. If 
such excellence can exist here below, what, 
must be the range and vigor of faculties ex- 
alted by converse with angels ? 

We can imagine the exquisite pleasure Re- 
nee must have experienced, as she sat sur- 
rounded by her children and her intimate 
friends, and drank in words of wisdom as 
they fell from the lips of Calvin ; now dis- 
coursing of Christian faith, and revealing to 
them more and more the wonderful beauty of 
God's word,, now teaching them that their 
hearts must not prove a fortress, but a treas- 
ure-house, from which they were to dispense 
to others the knowledge of the grace they 
themselves had received. 

About the time of Calvin's visit we find 
mention made of the arrival of another French 
exile — Clement Marot, " the prince of poets, 
and the poet of princes." At the court of 
Ferrara he was appointed to the secretary- 
ship made vacant by the withdrawal of Ber- 



AND HER COURT. 49 

nardo Tasso. Favored with the patronage of 
Renee, and the friendship of Calvin, his eyes 
were opened, at least in part, to the beauty of 
scriptural truth, and for a time his heart was 
won. While at the court of Ferrara, the poet 
conceived the idea of a metrical version of 
the Psalms. Fifty of these he rendered into 
French verse, and they were published at 
Geneva, with a preface by Calvin. But all of 
this profited little. The love of pleasure 
blighted the effect of scriptural truth upon 
the heart of the poet. His creed witnessed 
against his life, and it is a matter of regret 
that his name was ever connected with the 
sacred cause of the Reformation, and that 
Ren^e should have honored one so undeserv- 
ing. 

Thus far v/e have seen Httle to sadden the 
life of the duchess ; but the storm was gath- 
ering. The result of the duke's conference 
with Charles Y., at Naples, was seen, not long 
after his return, in the renunciation of the 
interests of France in favor of those of the 
pope. Painful as this change of policy must 
have been to the duchess, she was des- 

The Duchess Renee. 4: 



50 THE DUCHESS RENeE 

tined to meet with a more grievous trial ; for 
the noble-minded Madame de Soubise, the 
guardian and instructor of her childhood, to- 
gether with the French ladies of her court, 
were dismissed, and their places were filled 
with Italians. 

Calvin still lingered ; but the court of Fer- 
rara was no longer a safe place for so distin- 
guished a heretic. The private meetings for 
prayer and reading the Scriptures came to 
the ears of the duke, and Een^e was deprived 
of a friend from v/hose faithful instruction in 
scriptural truth she had learned much. 

The absence of the dearly-loved friends of 
her youth, especially Madame de Soubise and 
her daughter, with whom she had from a child 
shared every sentiment of her heart, must 
have been a severe test to the duchess ; but 
her children were of an age to demand much 
of her time, and in their care and instruction 
she endeavored to find comfort and solace. 
Not exclusively confined to her family, she 
sought out Italian ladies who were either fa- 
vorable to reform, or of such liberal opinions 
that they were open to conviction. 



AND HER COURT. 51 

Among these we find Yittoria Colonna, 
widow of the celebrated Marquis of Pescara. 
This lady was conspicuous for her virtues and 
talents, and for her early bias towards the 
doctrines of the reformers. The esteem in 
which Ilen6e held the marchioness may be 
inferred from the fact of her being one of the 
sponsors of the infant Leonora d'Este, the 
youngest daughter of the house of Ferrara. 

Besides the animated and mtellectual com- 
panionship of the ladies of her court, the 
duchess was surrounded by learned Italians 
of great talent. The princes of Ferrara had 
always been distinguished patrons of Htera- 
ture. Ferrara was not only famous for the 
superior talents of its literary men, but for 
the scientific knowledge of its professors of 
medicine. Giovanni Mainardi and his distin- 
guished pupil, Antonio Brasavola, were the 
renovators of medical science. The latter 
read dialectics in the university at eighteen, 
and at twenty sustained arguments at Padua 
and Bologna relating to theology, philosophy, 
mathematics, astronomy, medicine, and belles- 
lettres. This universal genius was a great fa- 



52 THE DUCHESS EENEE 

vorite at court. He was appointed chief pliy- 
sician to Ercole, and accompanied him to 
France when he went thither for his bride. 
His favorite studies were botany and medi- 
cine. He had a splendid collection of rare 
plants, and he enriched the Italian materia 
medica by many new remedies. 

Besides eminent scientific and medical 
men*, we find at the ducal court of Ferrara 
the poet Gregorio Giraldi, who, after strug- 
gling with poverty far from his own country, 
was at length obliged to return without hav- 
ing improved his fortunes. He was at Bome 
when the city was taken by the constable of 
Bourbon, and lost everything he possessed, 
including his books, which were indeed his 
chief treasure. A man of profound attain- 
ments, both duke and duchess welcomed him 
to Ferrara with every show of esteem and 
practical kindness. 

Another distinguished visitor who added 
brilliancy to the court was Celio Calcagnini, a 
canon of the cathedral, whose early life had 
been spent in camps. Exchanging war for 
diplomacy, and finally adopting th-e ecclesias- 



AND IIER COUET. 



53 



tical liabifc, lie won celebrity as " one of tlie 
most learned men of the sixteenth century." 
He was one of the first asserters of the earth's 
rotation on its axis, a circumstance which 
better entitles him to distinction than his cat- 
alogue of the medals in the museum of the 
duke, or than his easy and elegant verses. 





CHAPTEE Y. 




Academies— Olympia Morata — Fulvio Morato— Curione — 
The Brothers Sinapi— Distingnislied Ladies— Tlie Pope's 
Yisifc to Ferrara. 



JHE literary taste of Ferrara manifest- 
ed itself in a superabundance of acad- 
emies with quaint titles. The learned 
Celio Yfas a supporter of one of these — the 
" Elevati." After his death it decayed, but 
was finally revived under a different name. 
Bartolomeo Eicci, in a letter to the son of 
Celio, congratulates him on opening this acad- 
emy in the country, describes the meetings of 
its members, their walks together, and their 
learned discourses with each other, and be- 
moans himself that he cannot leave the city 
to enjoy their society. 

The academy called " Eerrarese " flourished 
at a later "period mider Torquato Tasso, who 



THE DUCHESS RENEE. 55 

delivered tlie opening oration, in which occur 
these words : 

" Here we neither desire nor aspire to any- 
thing but to cultivate our intellects, and ma- 
ture the seeds of virtue and learning which 
our mother Nature has so lavishly scattered 
among us. Here each will seek to sharpen 
his wit, to refine his judgment, to exercise his 
memory, and make it the receptacle of the 
precious treasures of knowledge and science. 
Here the tongue will be accustomed to ex- 
press with grace the ideas which the mind 
has first conceived and apprehended." 

The youthful family of Ercole II. and Ee- 
n^e of France was rendered complete by the 
birth of another son. The customary service 
of the Eomish church was performed on St. 
George's day, in the cathedral, by the Bishop 
Ghillino, with much pomp. The prince, borne 
in the arms of the Cardinal di Monte, in the 
name of the pope, received the name of Luigi, 
after his maternal grandfather, Louis XII. of 
France. 

Chroniclers have justly praised the duch- 
ess for the zeal with which she directed the 



56 THE DUCHESS REN^E 

minds of lier cliildren in tliose studies which 
she had pursued with enthusiasm in her own 
early youth, and which were still the solace of 
her existence. Her eldest daughter, the prin- 
cess Anna, already rewarded the care which 
had been bestowed upon her by her teachers. 
But companionship is necessary for the full 
development of one's powers, and Anna had 
neither sister nor friend to share her studies. 
Kemembering how slow her own progress 
would have been without association with the 
brilliant Anne de Parthenai, the duchess 
sought to supply the defect by the choice of a 
suitable companion for the princess Anna. 
She found her fondest wishes realized in 
Olympia Fulvia Morata. Olympia was five 
years older than the young princess; but not- 
withstanding the difference in age, a friend- 
ship sprang up between them, the harmony of 
which, although at a later date disturbed, was 
never wholly destroyed. 

Olympia was the daughter of Fulvio Mo- 
rato, whose name was duly honored in the 
universities of northern Italy, and she had 
enjoyed from her infancy the rarest advanta- 



AND HER COUET. 67 

ges of education in lier refined tlioiigli linm- 
ble home. 

The Estense palace was a welcome refuge 
to Otympia from tlie uncongenial occupations 
which had proved a barrier to her progress in 
knowledge. The kind-hearted duchess re- 
garded the child as next to her own ; and in 
the society of Anna d'Este, Olympia advanced 
rapidly in classical learning, while her native 
talents of improvisation, composition, and 
recitation were every day developed. 

It follov^ed as a matter of course that one 
so richly endowed by nature and education 
became an object of attraction to the learned 
who thronged the court of Eerrara, and that 
they did not conceal their admiration. The 
father of Olympia was likewise a resident of 
Eerrara, and a strong attachment sprang up 
between him and the good Curionej who had 
been in, such peril from embracing the re- 
formed opinions. The similarity of their liter- 
ary studies and the identity of their religious 
opinions were endearing bonds of union, while 
Morato loved Curione in an especial manner 
for having imparted to him heavenly treasures. 



58 THE DUCHESS EENEE 

Assiduously as literature was cultivated at 
Ferrara, there were not a few wlio souglit a 
still higlier learning. Calvin's visit and instruc- 
tion liad not been without fruit. Besides the 
accomplished Anne de Parthenai, who was as 
devout as a Christian as she was accomplish- 
ed as a woman, there was a young Italian 
lady, Francesca Bucyronia, who was so im- 
pressed by the reformer's preaching that she 
began to read the Scriptures and to study 
them with great earnestness. She was great- 
ly assisted in her search after truth by the 
conversation of two brothers from Germany 
by the name of Sinapi. 

John and Chilian Sinapi were Lutherans. 
Attracted by the fame of the university of Fer- 
rara, they entered that institution themselves 
as students, and were employed by the duch- 
ess to instruct her daughter in Greek. The 
ladies of the court had an opportunity of 
sharing in the instruction given to the princess 
Anna, and in turn the tutors as well as the 
pupils listened to Calvin, and became more 
spiritu.ally enlightened under ]iis teaching. 

There were yet other ladies whose names 



AND HEP. COUET. 59 

must not be forgotten — Lavinia della Rovere, 
wife of Paolo Orsini, and Donna MadeKna, 
and Donna Cherubina of the same distin- 
guislied family. These ladies not only gave 
lustre to Eenee's court by their beauty and 
their varied accomplishments, but the charm 
of spiritual excellence wa,s seen in their con- 
versation, and the crowning grace of piety 
lent a beauty that time could not efface. 

We have seen the friendship between Ful- 
vio Morato and Curione. We have novv^ to 
speak of the refined pleasure that Olympia 
felt in the conversation and companionshi]3 of 
Lavinia della Eovere. Both were capable of 
a high degree of intellectual enjoyment, and 
both, amidst everything calculated to divert 
their minds from serious thought, had been 
enabled to set their faces heavenward. "I 
know not," says Olympia, in speaking of her 
friend, "a more learned, or, what is still 
higher praise, a more pious woman in Italy." 

Though the opinions of the duchess were 
decided, and her leaning to reform manifest, 
yet she was obhged, from considerations for 
her husband and his new alliance with the 



60 THE DUCHESS RENf:E 

pope, to conform outwardly to many practices 
wliicli her conscience disapproved. 

The reconciliation of the house of Este 
with the pope, on the accession of Paul III. , 
was publicly solemnized by the visit which he 
paid to the court of Ferrara. " He embarked 
at Brescello in a large bucentoro, all adorned 
with gold, sent thither by the duke, with very 
many other barques. Two miles below Bon- 
deno the duke met him with sixty carriages, 
and thence conducted him to the most beau- 
tiful Belvedere palace, where, with part of his 
suite, the pontiff passed the night, and dined 
the following day within sight of the city. 

"The day after his arrival at this magnifi- 
cent retreat, the pontiff, with his suite of three 
thousand, including eighteen cardinals and 
forty bishops, besides several foreign ambassa- 
dors, together with the court of the duke and 
the nobility of the state, made his public en- 
try into Ferrara, passing over the bridge of 
St. George, which was ornamented and over- 
hung with rich draperies, after the fashion of 
a hall. And there, at the gate of the city, 
Prince Alfonso, the eldest son of the duke, 



AND HER COURT. . 61 

attended by a company of eighty noble 
youths, all dressed alike, wearing stockings of 
rose-colored cremisine, with giupponi of light 
silk stuff of the same color, and with coats of 
similar velvet, woven with golden threads, 
presented the pope with the keys of the city 
in a gold salver, and, after reciting a brief ora- 
tion, kissed the feet of the pontiff; who; in 
reply, charged him to keep those keys, saying 
that they were in good hands ; and then giv- 
ing the prince his benediction, he kissed his 
forehead. 

"Then commenced the procession, and 
through streets superbly adorned with tapes- 
tries, pictures, and hangings of various colors, 
the brilliant pageant moved along, the pope be- 
ing seated on high, under a lofty canopy of gold 
and brocade silk, and preceded by the duke 
on foot, until graciously bidden by the pontiff 
to mount his horse. At the cathedral, which 
was decorated in a costly manner for such a 
grand occasion,, the procession terminated, 
and the pontiff passed to the ducal palace, 
where no less than one hundred and forty 
rooms had been prepared for him and his 



62 THE DUCHESS EENEE 

suite, with the usual lavish extraviigance of 
tapestry, velvet, and brocade. 

" The following day there was another pro- 
cession. The Duchess Een^e, attended by 
seventy-two ladies dressed in black, with gold 
embroidery, all on their horses, followed by 
twenty-two carriages also filled with ' signore,' 
and by the duke and others on horseback, 
made a progress through the city. 

" The third day, however, exceeded all pre- 
vious days in its varied splendors, for it was 
St. George's day, and he was the patron saint 
of Ferrara. The pope first celebrated pontifi- 
cal mass in the cathedral, and then presented 
the duke with the golden rose, and with the 
sword and hat which he had blessed. Ercolo 
'humbly' acknov/ledged these favors, and 
kissed the feet of Paul III., who concluded 
these ceremonies by kissing his vassal on both 
cheeks, by way of requiting that abject hom- 
age. The duchess was present on this occa- 
sion, a circumstance particularly recorded. 
' And thither went also madama la duchessa, 
with her ladies, who sat upon a stage pre- 
pared for them.' 



AND HEE COUKT. 63 

"For the papal delectation after dinner, 
there was a tournament of sixteen nobles 
richly accoutred, which lasted two hours, and 
was witnessed by an innumerable crowd of 
people, as well as by the court and the distin- 
guished guests in whose honor it took place. 
In the evening the literary tastes of Pope 
Paul were gratified by the performance of 
the Latin comedy of the 'Adelphi' of Ter- 
ence; its various characters being sustained 
with great vivacity by the children of the 
duke and duchess, all of whom had a part in 
the recitation, although Prince Louis v/as but 
four years and a half old. 

" The day following, the pope returned to 
Bologna, presenting, at his departure, the 
Duchess Ken6e with a costly diamond, and 
with a jewel composed of diamonds in the 
form of a flower, also bestowing rich presents 
on the ducal children." 





CHAPTEE YI, 



Calvin's Letter to the Ducliess of Ferrara— The Marriage of 
Anna d'Este to Francis, Duke of Guise— Olympia Morata 
banished from Ferrara— The Martyr Fannio, Giorgio Si- 
culo — The Mission of Doctor Oriz. 



6t WITHSTANDING the dignity and 
state that surrounded Duchess Rende, 
her mind was not fettered by it, nor 
the sweet inner-Hfe tarnished by contact with 
influences seemingly unfavorable to spiritual 
growth and piety. The small Bible she 
brought from Trance was daily studied, and 
from her journal we find that the meditations 
of her heart were often on things heavenly 
and divine, when her bodily presence was 
given to the ceremonials of the court. Mean- 
while the letters received from Calvin were a 
solace, as well as helps to her edification and 
her growth in the spiritual life. 



THE DUCHESS EENEE. 65 

Higlily as tlie reformer estimated the zeal 
of Een6e, he did not conceal his conviction 
that she yet needed instrnction in the right 
way. Hearing, therefore, that she had been 
misled, by one from whom she ought to have 
learned better things, in a letter written 
toward the end of 1541, he denounced the 
false professor who would persuade her that 
attendance upon the popish mass was in no 
way sinful. But this he did, as he assures 
Eenee, without either envy or hatred towards 
him. After treating very fully about things 
lawful and unlawful, and how scandals must 
be avoided, Calvin continues : 

"Well, then, madame, seeing that it has 
pleased the Lord God, of his goodness and 
infinite compassion, to visit you with the 
knowledge of his name, and to enlighten you 
in the truth of his holy evangel, acknowledge 
your calling to which he has called you. For 
he has drawn us forth out of the depths of 
darkness, where we were detained captives, in 
order that we may follow uprightly the hght 
of his word, without declining either to the 
one side or to the other, and that we may 

Durbtiss Renee. 5 



66 THE DUCHESS EEN^E 

seek more and more to be instructed by liim, 
so that we may profit more abundantly in 
that holy wisdom wherein he has made some 
beginning among us : and, above all, to look 
to it carefully that we do not restrain his 
Spirit, as do those who shut their eyes and 
ears to the eyident plain truth, being content 
to remain ignorant of that which the Lord 
would have them know and understand. It 
is not thus that he would have us to do out 
of mere dread that the Lord will punish such 
contempt and ingratitude; but rather we 
ought to study to profit continually in the 
school of this good Master, until we shall 
have attained perfection in his doctrine, 
which will be when we are free from this 
down-weighing and earthly evil of the flesh, 
praying with good David that He would in- 
struct us in the doing of His will. Certes, if 
we go forward advancing therein with zealous 
affection, he will so guide us that he will not 
let us go astray out of the right path. And 
although there are still some remains of ig- 
norance in us, he will vouchsafe a more full 
revelation, when there is need for it, seeing 



AND HER COURT. G7 

that lie knows the right season better than 
we do. 

" The mam point is to understand how His 
holy doctrine ought to become fruitful, and 
so bring forth fruit in us ; and that is when it 
so transforms us by. the renewal of our heart 
and. mind, that his radiant glory, which con- 
sists in innocence, integrity, and holiness, re- 
lumes the soul within us. If it be not thus 
with us, we take the name of God in vain 
when we glorify ourselves by making our 
boast that we know the evangel. I do not 
say this to admonish you to do what you do 
not do at present, but on purpose that the 
work of God, wdiich is akeady begun in you, 
may be confirmed from day to day." 

We know not which most to admire, the 
simplicity and faithfulness of Calvin, or the 
teachable spirit of the duchess. Under diffi- 
culties of no common order, she persevered 
and proved herself eminently worthy of the 
friendship with which she had inspired the 
great reformer. 

The children of the duchess were now of 
an age to claim still more of her thoughts. 



68 THE DUCHESS EENI:E 

Anna is described as a young person of great 
beauty, united to affability of manner and a 
spirit singularly sweet and teachable. With- 
out the mental strength of her mother, she 
still made very creditable attainments in 
learning, writing with ease and rapidity, and 
with a certain finish and eloquence, that comes 
from clearly understanding the subject with 
which the writer deals. One of the pastimes 
of which the duchess, as well as Olympia and 
Anna, was very fond, was the writing of dia- 
logues, in some of which the immortality of 
the soul, and the state of future existence was 
the theme. This led to close investigation into 
the acts and motives of others ; to comparing 
and sifting, and drawing conclusions from 
God's words. Still, neither Anna nor Olym- 
pia fully apprehended the simplicity of gospel 
teaching. The grace in the heart of the lat- 
ter, like some delicate flower, was rather 
dwarfed than nourished. Discussions, in 
which the learning as well as the eloquence 
of the times was exhibited, grew upon her 
taste, and the duchess saw with sorrow that 
too freely roving in the fields of speculation 



AND HEE COURT. G9 

was altogether misiiited to minds not yet in 
full sympathy with the cross. 

The death of Francis I. of France, and the 
accession of Henry IL, was to affect Een^e 
more signally than she had even dreamed. 
The infatuated attachment of the new king to 
the family of Guise inspired him with active 
zeal to provide a splendid matrimonial alli- 
ance for the young Francis of Guise, Duke 
d'Aumale, and governor of Dauphiny and 
Savoy. Impossible as he found it to win the 
Duke of Ferrara from the cause of the empe- 
ror, Henry still thought it not beyond his 
power to procure the hand of the duke's 
daughter, his own cousin, for his favorite no- 
ble ; and, in spite of the aversion manifested 
by the family of Este, his negotiations were 
ultimately successful. 

In January, 1548, the Cardinal Charles of 
Guise left Ferrara with "fair promises" to 
report favorably to the Idng of France on the 
manner in which his embassy had been re- 
ceived. The summer following Henry met 
Duke Ercole at Turin, and the final settle- 
ment of the marriage was agreed upon. On 



70 THE DUCHESS RENl:E 

the second of September the duke returned 
to Ferrara, and immediately commenced prep- 
arations for -his daughter's nuptials, which 
were solemnized on the 29th of the same 
month, Prince Louis of Bourbon acting as 
proxy for Francis of Guise, in conjunction 
with Louis of Lorraine, and another brother 
of the bridegroom. Jousts, tourneys, and the 
customary festivities, followed the celebration 
of the marriage. But the externals of rejoi- 
cing did not hide the feeling of intense indig- 
nation in the hearts of the Ferrarese, by whom 
the princess was greatly beloved. They re- 
garded this union with the French duke as a 
mesalliance ; although the house of Guise 
had no reason to be ashamed of its ancestry. 
Anna, in truth, shared the not uncommon lot 
of princesses. Her union with Francis of 
Guise was a question of state policy. The 
Duke of Ferrara owed a large sum of money 
to the French king, and the gift of his daugh- 
ter to Henry's favorite cancelled the debt. 
The duchess, with the younger princesses, 
Lucrezia and Leonora, accompanied the bride 
as far as Mantua, and returned sadly. 



AND IIEE COUllT. 71 

It was at this time that some petty jeal- 
ousy crept in to mar the intercourse which had 
ever been of so friendly a nature between the 
young teacher Olympia Morata and her pupil. 
Whatever it was, we only know that the love 
of the duchess for her friend was sensibly 
abated. Before a reconciliation took place, 
Olympia left the court to attend her father in 
a protracted illness, from which he did not 
recover. When she returned, the Princess 
Anna was married. The displeasure of the 
duke rendered him unapproachable, while 
the anger of Een^e was not to be appeased. 
Olympia had no advocate to plead her cause. 
" Once indeed she attempted to vindicate 
herself from the aspersions of her slanderers. 
But strange and inexplicable as it may 
seem, the duchess would not listen. Ban- 
ished from court, the fatherless Olympia 
dared not reclaim the wardrobe that had been 
hers, and it was only at the request of Mad- 
ame Orsini that the duchess permitted the 
restoration of one of her robes. Thus was 
the persecution of the reformers at Ferrara 
inaugurated, by the sufferings of one whose 



72 THE DUCHESS EENEE 

past life 01 enjoyment was but an indifferent 
preparation for trouble." But a salutary 
change was wrought in her mind. From this 
moment she no longer halted between two 
opinions, but resolved to live and die a fol- 
lower of the gospel. Such a resolution she 
knew well was not without peril in that dark 
and intolerant age ; but her trust was in the 
living God, and to him she committed herself. 
In communion with her own heart, she began 
to perceive her need of these trials. Writing 
to her friend and her father's friend, Curione, 
she says : " Oh, how I needed this trial ! If 
I had remained lono;er at court, it would have 
been all over with me and my salvation." In 
the seclusion of her mother's house she em- 
ployed herself in study and in the instruction 
of her young sisters, but more especially in 
spiritual contemplation and devotion. 

From this time the brilliancy of Rente's court 
was visibly dimmed. The literary men w4io 
had been the pride of Ferrara began to with- 
draw. The brothers Sinapi speedily left the 
palace, whence their distinguished pupil had 
been so cruelly spurned. ' The brilliant Fran- 



AND HER COURT. 73 

cesca Bucyronia was a willing exile from a 
spot wliicli slie had .enjoyed so miicli. And 
we can well imagine that Een^e was not with- 
oat her share of sorrow as she missed from 
her stately halls not alone the princess Anna, 
but also the friends v/ho had been held so 
dear. 

From any further consequences of persecu- 
tion Olympia was preserved by her marriage 
with Andrew Gruntler, a German, the pupil of 
her father, and the friend of her instructors, 
the brothers Sinapi. In the spring of 1551 
she accompanied her husband to Germany, 
taking with her her youngest brother, Emilio. 

While Olympia was enduring the discipline 
of calumny at Ferrara, another was suffering 
in the horrid dungeons of the same city " for 
the word of God and for the testimony of 
Jesus Christ." This was Faventino Fannio, 
of Faenza. Eeceiving the light of divine 
grace into his own heart, he began to teach 
his fellow-citizens from the word of God. 
This came to the ears of the inquisitor, and 
Fannio was cast into prison. There the en- 
treaties of his wife prevailed on him to save 



74 THE DUCHESS RENEE 

his life by recantation. No sooner was he 
free than his conscience bitterly reproached 
him for his unfaithfulness in denying Christ. 
His remorse was unceasing, and he could not 
enjoy a moment's repose until he had re- 
sumed his former manner of life. To make 
amends for his error, he now resolved to con- 
fess Christ openly. His zeal was thus ardently 
kindled. He went about Eomagna, preach- 
ing in every city. If in any place he found it 
difficult publicly to announce the gospel, he 
sought opportunity for conversation with any 
one who would hear him. While thus occu- 
pied he was again arrested, and condemned 
not to prison but to the flames. He was first 
taken to Ferrara, and remained there long 
enough to make many converts. The pope, 
fearing his influence, ordered him to be im- 
prisoned in the castle. There he remained 
eighteen months, and was frequently put to the 
torture. But this did not affect his constan- 
cy. He continued firmly rejoicing that all 
things work together for good to those who 
love Christ. 

"While Fannio was in prison he was visited 



AND HER COTTET. 75 

by Lavinia della Bovere and Olympia Mora- 
ta. Witliout doubt the Ducliess Een6e gave 
him her sympathy. But all intercessions 
were fruitless. Fannio was hanged upon the 
piazza. His body was afterwards burnt, and 
the ashes scattered on the river Arno. And 
thus to Ferrara was accorded the unenviable 
distinction of being the scene of the first mar- 
tyrdom in Italy for the cause of the Reform- 
ation. The following spring was marked 
by another martyrdom in Ferrara, the vic- 
tim being a man of learning named Giorgio 
Siculo. 

Thus the v,^ork of blood proceeded. But 
the dispersion of the reformed church at Fer- 
rara could not satisfy the cravings of its per- 
secutors while the Duchess Ben^e persisted 
in her obnoxious sentiments. The duke him- 
self, stimulated by his confessor, was more 
determined than ever to vindicate the claims 
of Borne. 

Ercole appears to have made known the 
state of the case to his wife's nephew, Henry 
II. of France, who immediately returned an 
answer to the effect that, at whatever cost, the 



76 THE DUCHESS EENEE. 

ducliess must be constrained to profess the 
doctrines of the Holy See. To explain the 
part that Henry took in this matter we can- 
not do better than give his instructions to the 
inquisitor Oriz : 

" The doctor Oriz, one of the presentiaries 
of our holy father, the pope, being arrived at 
Ferrara, where the king instantly sends him, 
shall dehver to Monsieur the Duke of Ferrara 
the letters which the said king has written to 
him with his own hand, and shall tell him 
how he has express charge from his majesty 
to employ himself, and to do entirely all that 
he can do in the affair for which he is de- 
spatched. And thereupon he shall know from 
the said duke the means which he will have 
to take, the better and the more carefully to 
begin and to carry on the work, so good, so 
holy and salutary, which by the command- 
ment of the king he has undertaken. 

" After that he shall have understood from 
the said lord duke what he will have to do 
when entering into conversation with madame 
la duchesse, and when he shall have well and 
diligently inquired and informed himself of 



AND IIEK COUET. 77 

tlio principal points upon wliicli slie lias fallen 
into error, to the end that according thereunto 
he may consider the remonstrances, proposi- 
tions, and allegations Y/hich he shall use to 
reclaim her, and to bring her back to the flock 
of Jesus Christ, he shall deliver to her the let- 
ter which the king has written to her with his 
own hand. He shall tell her that his majesty 
has heard in several places, after that ih.ej 
had long concealed it from him, as not daring 
to speak to him of it, the misfortune, than 
wdiich no greater could have happened to the 
said lady, who has suffered herself to be hur- 
ried into the labyrinths of these unhappy 
opinions, contrary and repugnant to our holy 
faith and religion. He has received in his 
heart from it such grief, sorrow, and annoy- 
ance as it is impossible to know how to ex- 
press, this news being nothing else to him 
than that of the loss of the bodily and spirit- 
ual life of his only aunt, whom he has always 
so much loved, esteemed, and honored, as he 
doth singularly still ; so that when he shall 
hear of her reconciliation and reduction to 
the true obedience of the church, the ease 



78 THE DUCHESS EENEE 

and pleasure tliat lie will receive from it will 
not be less than if lie saw lier raised from 
death to life ; and he knows of nothing in the 
world for which he will render thanks to God 
with greater sincerity than if he see her, as he 
hopes, shortly reconciled and reclaimed to the 
pale of our mother, the holy church, exempt- 
ed and purged from these blameable, con- 
demnable, and reprobated errors. To this 
she ought to be the more moved and incited 
by consideration of the great favors which 
God has granted to her, and, among others, 
of being the issue of the purest blood of the 
most Christian house of France, where no 
monster has ever existed ; and to perceive 
now, that if, instead of following in the foot- 
steps of her progenitors, who with singular 
zeal have always embraced the protection of 
our holy catholic faith, this lady should 
choose to remain in stubbornness and perti- 
nacity, it would displease the king as much as 
anything in the world, and would cause him 
entirely to forget the friendship, with all the 
observances and demonstrations of a good 
nephew, he hating nothing with a greater 



AND HER COURT. 79 

hatred than all those of the reprobate sects, 
whose mortal enemy he is. 

" And if, after such remonstrances and per- 
suasions, together with those which the said 
Doctor Oriz shall employ of his own way and 
profession, to make her to know the truth, 
and the difference which there is between 
light and darkness, it shall appear that he is 
unable by gentle means to gain her and to 
reclaim her, he shall take counsel with the 
said lord duke as to what can possibly be 
done in the way of rigor and severity to bring 
her to reason. And, in the first place, the 
king is of opinion that, upon the principal 
points where she is found to be most in error, 
the said lord duke should cause by the said 
Oriz to be preached sermons, at which he 
shall be present, and shall require the pres- 
ence likewise of the said lady and all her 
family, whatever refusal or difficulty she may 
make to it ; and having continued this for 
some days, if he perceives that by such means 
he can in no wise profit the said lady, the said 
Oriz shall declare to her, in the presence of 
him, the lord duke, that the king has given 



80 THE DUCHESS EEN^E 

him express charge by this present instruc- 
tion, signed by his own hand, which he will 
then show to her, that if so it should be that 
this lady, after that everything has been done 
that is possible in her case, should finally re- 
main obstinate and pertinacious in such er- 
rors, without otherwise choosing to return to 
the obedience of the church, and to the ob- 
servance of our holy Catholic faith, [then] 
his majesty wills and approves, and indeed 
prays and exhorts him, the said duke, very 
earnestly, that he would cause the said lady 
to be put into a place secluded from society 
and conversation, where she may henceforth 
injure no one but herself, taking from her her 
children and the whole of her family entirely, 
of whatever nation they be, who shall be 
found burdened with, or be vehemently sus- 
pected of, the said errors and false doctrines, 
that they may be put upon their trial, the 
said Oriz being sent for, who is experienced 
in such matters belonging to his profession, 
he being inquisitor of the faith in this king- 
dom. 

" And these said trials being over, that ex- 



AND HER COURT. 81 

emplary punisliment be done upon the abet- 
tors and delinquents ; his majesty confiding 
in the said lord duke to use, in such execu- 
tions and procedures (as in those which shall 
affect the person of the said lady, and follow 
upon them) such discretion and mode of ac- 
tion that justice may take effect without scan- 
dal or notoriety, as regards this lady and those 
dependent upon her." 

Such was the instruction of King Henry II. 
to the inquisitor Oriz. Before he arrived, 
however, the duke, acting on the advice of 
the Jesuit Pellatario, dismissed all the sus- 
pected members of Rente's household, inclu- 
ding a preacher, a stev/ard, an almoner, and 
the learned preceptor of the princesses Lu- 
crezia and Leonora— ^Francesco Porta da 
Creta, who was suspected of having imbibed 
the same obnoxious doctrines. After this 
deed of tyranny on the part of Ercole, " the 
duchess, either in disgust at the treatment, or 
by the command of her husband, took up her 
abode in the palace of Consandolo, [1554.] 

"The efforts of Oriz were fruitless. He 
persuaded, argued, preached, threatened in 



The Duchess Kenee. 



82 THE DUCHESS REN£E 

vain. In her retirement, the duchess prose- 
cuted her correspondence with Geneva ; and 
even scrupled not to eat meat on Wednes- 
days." These were unpardonable offences. 
But Een6e's contumacy was still further ag- 
gravated by her attempts " to make to herself 
pupils," in the neighboring Terra di Argenta. 
This last act made the cup of the duke's in- 
dignation to overflow. He had labored in 
vain for her conversion. His confessor, Pelle- 
tario, made not the least impression, and Oriz, 
far from changing the mind of the duchess, 
might as well have remained in Paris. 

" These were bitter subjects of reflection to 
Ercole. He determined to strike a decisive 
blow." In the darkness of night he caused 
her to be conveyed from the Palace di St. 
Francesco in a carriage to the gloomy Gastle 
of Ferrara. " There, strictly confined in the 
Cavallo chambers, with only two attendants, 
she had time to meditate on her situation, 
and to anticipate still worse results. The two 
princesses were taken to the Convent di Cor- 
po Cristo, where they were admitted as pupils, 
to be carefully educated in what was termed 



AND HER COUKT. 83 

tlie Catholic faith. Many there doubtless 
were who in hope and fear waited to see what 
would be the issue of these events. Not for 
Een^e's sake alone was their anxiety awaken- 
• ed, but for that of the almost expiring cause 
of the Reformation in Italy. In spite of the 
duchess' occasional concessions to the de- 
mands of the dominant rehgion," it was well 
known that her heart was true to the re- 
formed doctrines. " It would now be seen if 
she were prepared to stand by those doc- 
trines with unshaken fidelity, or would deny 
that her life was influenced by them. And 
beloved as she was in Ferrara, we may readi- 
ly imagine the interests which thrilled all 
ranks in behaK of the good duchess Ren^e." 
" When, therefore, it was heard that Pelle- 
tario had been summoned to the castle, that 
he had received the confession of the duch- 
ess, and had also administered the eucharist 
to the penitent according to the rites of the 
church of Eome, what varied feelings must 
these reports have excited. To the suffering 
members of the reformed communion, what 
surprise and sorrow must it have occasioned." 



81 THE DUCHESS KEN^E. 

"Rente's emancipation from tlie dismal 
captivity of the castle was granted by the 
duke immediately on his receiving from Pel- 
letario information of her confession and res- 
toration to the Eoman church. That same 
night they supped together in token of their 
renewed amity, and the next day the children, 
of whose presence she had been so harshly 
deprived, were again consigned to her mater- 
nal care. To leave no doubt of the reality of 
her repentance, Ren^e again partook of the 
sacrament of the mass, and the duke, in to- 
ken of his satisfaction, permitted her to re- 
turn to the Palace of St. Francesco.'' 








CHAPTEE YII. 




Reconciliation of Alfonso with the Duke— War in Italy— 
Tlie Marriage of Prince Alfonso— Renee's Kindness to t.he 
French Soldiers. 



[HEEE clays after the Ducliess Ee- 
n^e's emancipation from the castle- 
prison, her eldest son, Alfonso, re- 
turned from Flanders, and was received by his 
father with civilit}^, if not affection. The spirit 
of the young prince had been stirred by the 
sound of war between Henry II. of France 
and the emperor, and he earnestly desired to 
partake in the exciting hazards of the pend- 
ing contest. To this his father w^ould not lis- 
ten. Therefore, collecting by loans from va- 
rious individuals a sufficient sum of money, 
he left Ferrara, under pretext of joining in a 
hawking expedition without the walls of the 
city, accompanied, as usual, by the gentle- 



86 THE DUCHESS KENfiE 

men of his bed-cliamber and others in office 
about his person. At the Passo del PaoUno, 
he declared his intention of proceeding at 
once to PariSj and set forth thither, taking 
with him fifteen of his attendants, and dis- 
missing the rest. The journey was success- 
fully accompHshed, and the prince was wel- 
comed with great distinction by his cousin 
of France, Henry II., who decorated him 
with the order of St. Michael, and gave him 
the command of a troop of a hundred men, 
with a pension in advance to provide for his 
necessities. 

" This step on the part of his son and heir 
caused much disgust to Duke Ercole. Fail- 
ing in his endeavor to have the prince overta- 
ken and brought back to Ferrara, he caused 
the effigy of Gio Tommaso Lavezzuolo, a 
companion of Alfonso, to be suspended by 
one foot before the windows of the Palazzo 
della Eagione. Moreover the duke offered a 
reward for the capture of the offender, dead 
or alive, as the original counsellor of the 
prince's flight to Paris. But when Alfonso 
desired to return to Ferrara, he encountered 



AND HER COURT. 87 

no resentment on the part of his father, while 
his arrival was welcomed by the citizens with 
great pomp and rejoicings." 

" The poHtical inclinations of the Duke of 
Ferrara might have been inferred to be on 
the side of Henry II., by reason of his own 
marriage with the Princess Ken^e, of France, 
and that of his eldest daughter with the Duke 
of Guise, who claimed to be of the blood 
royal of the same kingdom. But his alle- 
giance to Charles Y., of whom he held Mo- 
dena and Eeggio in fee, drew him the other 
way. Now, however, motives of prudence 
combined with the claims of relationship to 
produce an alteration in Ercole's jDolicy." 

Pope Paul IV., in order to free himself 
from dependence on the House of Austria, 
did not scruple to invoke another French in- 
vasion of Italy. Accordingly he joined in a 
league with Henry II. of France, against 
PhiUp, king of Spain, likewise king of Naples, 
and duke of Milan. " The party of Philip II. 
in Italy being greatly strengthened by the 
combined alliance of Cosmo de' Medici, duke 
of Florence, and Ottavio Farnese, duke of 



88 THE DUCHESS EENEE 

Parma, required some effective counterpoise ; 
and the pope and tlie king of France natural- 
ly looked to the Duke of Ferrara^ the feuda- 
tory of the former, and the uncle by marriage 
of the latter. Ercole strongly resisted, but 
his reluctance finally yielded to the flatteries 
of the Duke of Guise. He joined the league in 
November, 1556, when he was named its * Cap- 
tain-General,' and ' Lieutenant General of the 
Army of France in Italy.' " 

The Duke of Guise, at the commencement 
of the next year, entered Italy with the en- 
tire French army. His only thought was of 
Naples. In the meanwhile, Philibert, duke 
of Savoy,-was effecting a diversion in the low 
countries. The victory of St. Quentin deci- 
ded the fate of the French army on the Flem- 
ish frontier, whose general, the Constable de 
Montgomery, was taken prisoner. The Duke 
of Guise was recalled to the defence of Paris, 
and the pope was at the mercy of Philip II. 

" The operations of Duke Ercole in this war 
were restricted to the province of Lombardy, 
which he steadily refused to leave, although 
urged by the pope to turn his arms against 



AND HER COURT. 89 _ 

Naples. At Eeggio, whither Ercole went wiih 
the Ferrarese troops, he was joined bj the 
Duke cle Guise, and by his eldest son, Alfon- 
so." Nevertheless, he obstinately refused to ac- 
company the invading army into the Abruzzo. 
He consented, hovrever, to furnish it munitions 
of war, while he occupied the north in order 
effectually to hold in check the Spaniards of 
the Milanese, "War had always been dis- 
tasteful to Ercole II., and he certainly won 
no laurels in this contest. The Yenitians, 
whose cooperation he strenuously sought, de- 
clined to join in the strife. Ercole failed in 
the attempt to reduce Coreggio and Guastalla, 
and had nearly fallen a victim, with all his 
house, to a conspiracy concocted in Eerrara, 
under the connivance of Cardinal Madrucci, 
the Marquis of Pescara, and Eerrante di Gon- 
zaga, partisans of King Philip in Lombardy." 
The plot was accidentally discovered, and 
frustrated, and Ercole turned it to advantage 
by offering it as another pretext for not carry- 
ing his army to a great distance from his own 
territories. Paul IV., however, punished his 
vassal's lukewarmness by omitting to have 



90 THE DUCHESS RENflE 

his name included in the treaty of peace with 
Philip II. Ercole, therefore, remained ex- 
posed to the animosity of the Spanish party 
in Lombardy. Henry II. also manifested a 
total indisposition to aid the unfortunate duke, 
and but for Prince Alfonso the case would 
have been desperate. "The prince, accom- 
panied by Cornelio Bentivoglio, at the head 
of four thousand infantry, together with four 
pieces of artillery, gave battle to the army of 
Parma and routed it. Shortly afterwards, 
Cosmo, duke of Florence, a friend of Ercole, 
succeeded in bringing about a pacification 
between the king of Spain and Ottavio Far- 
nese on the one side, and the Duke of Eerrara 
on the other. The marriage of Prince Alfonso 
with Lucrezia, third daughter of Cosmo, seal- 
ed the reconciliation of the ducal houses of 
Eerrara and Florence. Leaving his bride at 
the court of her father, Alfonso set out for 
Paris immediately after the nuptial ceremony, 
to resume military service under Henry IL, 
and to justify Duke Ercole's withdrawal from 
the league." 

In these stirring events we cannot for a 



AND HEE COURT. 91 

moment imagine the Ducliess Ren^e an in- 
different observer. The celebrated warrior 
Montluc relates how, on his arrival at Fer- 
rara, (after the reverses at St Quentin had 
necessitated the recall of Guise,) he was re- 
ceived and welcomed, not only by the duke 
and his brother the cardinal, but also by 
"Madame la Duchesse," as if he had been 
their own brother. He adds: "They would 
that I should lodge in the castle," where they 
entertained him with all hospitality. And in 
another place, after narrating his success in 
throwing succor into Yercelli, and his return 
to Ferrara when peace was restored. " It is 
unnecessary to ask if I was welcomed by 
Monsieur the Duke, Monsieur the Cardinal, 
and by Madame la Duchesse, for I do not 
think they ever caressed any man, of what- 
ever condition he might be, more than my- 
self." 

" In harmony with Een^e's grateful recep- 
tion of her valiant compatriot, was her benev- 
olent care for the perishing soldiery of France, 
the remains of the army of Guise, after their 
brilliant leader had forsaken his command in 



92 THE DUCHESS IlENl:E. 

Italy. Their situation was pitiable in tlie ex- 
treme. No less than ten thousand of these 
-destitute creatures were saved from death by 
the liberal hand of Eenee. For, as they 
passed through Ferrara, she supplied them all 
with money and medicines, as far as was in her 
power ; and when her steward represented to 
her her heavy expenses, she only answered, 
' What would you have me do ? These are poor 
Frenchmen, and my countrymen, who, if God 
had given me a beard on my chin and I had 
been a man, would all novf have been my sub- 
jects; and would have been such, neverthe- 
less, if that unjust Salic law did not bear too 
hard upon me,' " It would, no doubt, have 
been for the prosperity of France had Ken^e 
reigned over her. As it was, she has left a 
worthy record in its honor. 





CHAPTER VIII. 

Galeazzo Curaccioli — Calvin's Letter — Religious Persecutiou 
' in France— Deatli of Henry II. of France— Death of Er- 

cole, Duke of Ferrara— Renee the Head of State— Renee 

returns to France. 



ofe 



MPOSSIBLE as we may find it to 
excuse or to palliate the dissembling 
^ course Ren^e pursued in reference to 
her reconciliation with Rome, we can- 
not doubt, however, that it was her affection 
in part that led her astray. The knowledge 
that her daughters were entered as pupils in 
the Convent di Corpo Cristo, " to be carefully 
educated m what was termed the Catholic 
faith," was in itself sufficient to unnerve the 
heart of a mother, and cause her, like Peter, 
in the moment of human weakness to deny 
her Master with her lips. But like Peter, her 
faith was afterwards ' strengthened by reason 
of her very fall. 
- Neither did the martyrdoms in Ferrara 



94 THE DUCHESS EENf:E 

wholly deprive her of Christian friends and 
associates. There was one, eminent among 
the reformed Italians for his constancy to the 
faith, with whom the duchess "took sweet 
counsel." This was Galeazzo Caraccioli, the 
eldest son of the Marquis of Yico. There 
were many who hailed with delight the con- 
version of this young noble; but to his own 
family it was altogether distasteful. The 
marquis, his father, would not listen to what 
he called his son's " heresy." His wife resist- 
ed all his efforts to win her from the rehgion 
of Bome, and strove on her part to turn him 
away from the truths which he had embraced. 
Finding that liberty to serve his God accord- 
ing to his conscience would be. denied him in 
Naples, he resolved to separate himself from 
all that he held dear in this world, rather than 
lose what was dearer to him still, his peace of 
mind and his integrity. 

Accordingly he withdrew from court and 
retired to Geneva, where he placed himself 
under the instruction of Calvin, and became 
not merely his pupil but his friend. Led by 
a sense of filial duty, Caraccioli returned on 



AND SER COURT. 95 

a visit to his father, " taking Ferrara in his 
way, where he was joyfully received of Fran- 
ciscus Portus. This Portus brought him into 
acquaintance with the noble Duchess of Fer- 
rara, who entertained him honorably, and 
after much conference had with him of the 
alteration of his religion, and of the success 
of his long voyages and tedious journeys, of 
the church of Geneva, of Calvin, and of many 
chief points of Christian religion, she dis- 
missed him and left him to his journey, but 
not without all courtesies that she could af- 
ford him; and, namely, for one, to relieve 
the length and tediousness of the way, she 
sent him her own chariot, and thus ' Galea- 
cius' was conveyed ui the chariot of so great 
a princess as far as the town of Francolium." 
Something of the inner-life of the duchess 
we discover in the letters of Calvin at this 
period. The manuscript collections of Du- 
puy present us with one showing the tender- 
ness of the great reformer. Seeking to fortify 
her mind he is, careful not to "break the 
bruised reed." He preserves his old incognito 
of " Charles d'Espeville." 



96 THE DUCHESS REN:&E 

"Madam : I praise God tliat tlie man wliom I had 
sent to you discharged liis duties so well that you are 
satisfied with him, for that being the case, I hope 
that his exertions will have served at the same time 
to bring you forward on the way of salvation. Now, 
since God has not permitted that he should on this 
occasion follow out his employment at greater length, 
I beseech you, madam, at whatever cost, to persevere 
in being daily taught in the school of our Lord Jesus 
Christ, as in fact you know well enough without be- 
ing' admonished by others, that you have need to be, 
especially at a time when the devil is stirring up all 
the vexations he can, in order to make you turn away 
from it. Nay, since you have to resist all the in- 
trigues that this mortal enemy of our salvation plies 
against you, call to mind, also, that God uses this 
means for the trial of your faith. If to be thus test- 
ed seem to you a hard and rough trial, think well on 
what St. Peter says : ' If a corruptible metal is put 
into the fire that it may be known to be good and 
true, much more shall the faith, which is far more 
precious, not be spared.' If you feel in yourself 
more weakness than might be wished, have recourse 
to Him who has promised that all those who hope in 
Him shall be as the tree planted by the waters, hav- 
ing a good and living root, which never withers un- 
der any heat that may come. For it is certain that 
He will never suJEfer us to be tempted beyond that 
which we are able to bear, and that if he looses Sa- 
tan's rein, He will increase in us, measure for meas- 
ure, the power of overcoming him in nil things. 

"It is good and useful to us, that we sound well 



AND HER COURT. 97 

tlie depth of onr infirmity, not that it may make us 
sink indolently into des^Dair, bat that "we may become 
anxious to find the remedy for it. Whereupon, mad- 
am, Yv'hile you preserve your trust that the enemies 
who so furiously rage will be of no avail, however 
they may strive, without the leave of the sovereign 
Master, be not weary of combating with all tempta- 
tions ; and inasmuch as weapons are necessary to you 
in that combat, v^^hile you seek to Him who is able to 
make you strong, exercise yourself in attending to 
holy exhortations, and, as I have already said, take 
good heed not to despise the having a person daily 
to stir you up, which measure you have up to this 
time found on trial to be very useful to you, and in 
promoting Avhich I hope that our friends will not be 
found wanting. Only, madam, take courage ; yield 
not to Satan the vantage which he looks for of find- 
ing you unprepared. Even were the condition of 
the children of God a hundred times harder than it 
is, not a thought should be entertained of abandon- 
ing the good to which God by his infinite goodness 
has been pleased to call us. 

"Madam, I humbly commend myself to your good 
graces, having just entreated our good God to direct 
you always by his Spirit, to strengthen you in his 
righteousness, to keep you under his protection, and 
to enrich you in every good thing. 

' ' Your very humble servant, 

'* Charles d'Espe^tlle. 

"This 20th July, 1558." 



DuchcfcS Keuee. 



98 THE DUCHESS KENllE 

While Ken^e was living a life of compara- 
tive seclusion in Ferrara, Iier native land, mi- 
der its cruel king Henry II., was from time 
to time tlie scene of savage persecution. 
Like his father, Francis I., Henry loved to 
witness the lingering martyrdom of his vic- 
tims, feasting his eyes on sights of mortal 
agony and more than mortal endurance. 
Henry was also as perfidious as he was cruel. 
The measures already adopted against heresy 
weye not, in his opinion, severe enough. The 
parliament which had refused to sanction the 
establishment of the Inquisition in France, 
contained suspected members. To detect 
them, the cardinal of Lorraine devised a plan 
which his sovereign carried into execution. 
Henry went to the hall of parliament, and 
there holding " a bed of justice," invited the 
members to state freely before him their opin- 
ions, on the proper treatment of heresy 

Entrapped by this simulated candor, the 
presidents Harlai, Seguier, and De Thou, 
argued in behalf of the toleration of doctrines, 
in the belief of which nevertheless they did 
not share, and two others, Louis du Faur and 



AND HER COUET. 99 

Anne du Bourg, boldly avowed their sjmpa- 
tliy with the Eeformation, and lifted up their 
voices in the cause of their persecuted breth- 
ren. The king was transported with fury at 
their fearless words ; he commanded the two 
speakers to be instantly arrested and dragged 
to prison. Their doom was sealed. 

The judgment of God signally followed. 
While the two counsellors lay in prison, await- 
ing a bloody death, a grand tournament took 
place in Paris. Then it was that the lance 
of Montgomery unwittingly avenged them ol 
their adversary. Henry, so unexpectedly 
struck down, fell mortally wounded into the 
arms of Prince Alfonso of Ferrara, and after 
Hngering for twelve days, expired. When 
the terrible tidings reached Ferrara, the duke 
caused a splendid funeral service to be cele- 
brated for his lilie-minded nephew, in the 
cathedral. In less than three months after 
the death of the king of France, Ercole him- 
self was summoned to his account. In his 
v/ill, which bore the date of 1558, he assigned 
to the Duchess Eeni^e the usufruct of the pal- 
ace of Belriguardo, and of half of the lands 



100 THE DUCHESS KENl:E 

appertaining thereunto, "for so long as slie 
shall live as a good Catholic." 

" The death of the duke placed the Duch- 
ess E.en6e in an important position in Ferrara. 
Her two sons, Alfonso and Luigi, were at the 
French court, and Cardinal Ippolito II., their 
uncle, had left Ferrara, to " take his seat in 
the Eoman conclave. Francesco d'Este, the 
uncle of the late duke, was in the service of 
Spain. The reins of government, therefore, 
fell into the hands of Een^e. Having de- 
spatched a courier to Paris with the fatal 
intelligence, and given honorable interment 
to the remains of her deceased husband, she 
assumed with vigor the direction of the state. 
She intrusted Modena to Don Alfonso d'Este, 
son of Alfonso I. by a morganatic marriage, 
and took measures for the defence of Ferrara, 
as though the enemy w^ere actually at the 
gates. 

"When the tidings of his father's death 
reached Alfonso, he immediately sent a mes- 
senger to Ferrara with various commissions, 
and most loving letters to his mother and 
to the city. Then he hastened to take leave 



AND HER COUKT. 101 

of tlie young king, Francis II., wlio upon the 
duke's departure issued a brevet commemo- 
rating his relationship and his service, and 
granting an annual income of twenty thou- 
sand scudi d'oro del sole, to be paid on the 
surrender of Caen in Normandy, which was 
part of the dowry of the Princess Eenee, his 
mother." 

From Marseilles, Alfonso sailed to Leg- 
horn, and thence to Florence to visit his wife, 
whom he had so abruptly quitted after their 
marriage in the previous year. From Flor- 
ence his j^rney to Ferrara was one grand 
ovation. It was expected that he would dis- 
mount, according to custom, at the Belvedere 
Palace without the walls, and the nobility of 
Ferrara there assembled to meet him. But 
he disappointed their expectations, by going 
first, incognito, to visit the duchess, his moth- 
er, at her palace within the city. The next 
day he retired to the Belvedere, where he re- 
mained in privacy till the preparations were 
completed for his first public entry into Fer- 
rara as its duke. 

The young sovereign's first act was one of 



102 THE DUCHESS RENflE 

mercy. He gave liberty to an aged relative, 
Giulio d'Este, brother of Alfonso I., wlio for 
a conspiracy in 1505, had languished for fifty- 
tliree miserable years in prison. At this gen- 
erous act the public were enthusiastic. Giulio, 
'in whose breast age had not extinguished feel- 
ing, nor the gloom of so long a captivity oblit- 
erated the sense of enjoyment, was wild with 
delight. When released from his fetters, he 
appeared in the same costume which he wore 
when, more than half a century previous, he 
had been cast into prison. 

Yery early in his reign, Alfonso II. gave 
proofs that he had inherited the literary tastes 
which for generations distinguished the fam- 
ily of d'Este. He restored and reopened the 
University of Ferrara, which had become al- 
most extinct during the latter years of his 
father's life. He also made known his inten- 
tion of establishing a press at Ferrara for the 
purpose of printing such hitherto inedited 
works as might be deemed advantageous to 
the cause of letters ; but it is extremely doubt- 
ful if this munificent design was ever carried 
into execution. 



AND HER COURT. 103 

Meanwhile tlie Duchess Een(^e relying on 
her maternal influence over the young duke, 
hesitated not to speak of the "wholesome 
doctrines" she had imbibed. The effect was 
instantaneous. Alfonso could not bear the 
scandal which the heresy of the duchess was 
bringing upon the House of Este. The tide 
of opinion had turned in Italy, and the church 
of Home had everywhere recovered her lost 
ground. 

Alfonso dared not offend the pope, nor had 
he learned the genial principles of toleration 
at such a court as that of Henry II. There- 
fore he enforced on his mother the stern alter- 
natives either to change her religion or to de- 
part from Italy. With a faith that had grown 
firm with years, Ken^e chose to leave a city 
that had been her home for more than thirty 
years. " Mightily," says the chronicler, " did 
the loss of this royal princess displease the 
people of Ferrara, because, fascinating every 
one with the vivacity of her intellect, and the 
sweetness of her manners, she was beloved 
by every one to a high degree, and so much 
the more by reason of her unequalled liber- 



104 TPIE DUCHESS EEN^E 

ality, for slie never tired of aiding tlie neces- 
sitous by alms." 

The true cause of the dowager-duchess' re- 
turn to France was not generally known to 
the Ferrarese. The report was, that she 
went away, because dissatisfied . with the 
duke, her son. On September, 1560, she 
set out on her journey. A barge conveyed 
her household and personal effects as far as 
Turin. She herself departed in a litter, ac- 
companied by her younger son, Luigi, who 
went with her to France. Duke Alfonso at- 
tended his mother, with a train of three hun- 
dred persons, nobles, ladies, and cavaliers, as 
far as Finale in the Modenese, where they 
took a sad, but final leave of each other. 




ySjJ^^ 




CHAPTEK IX. 

The Changes wrought in Thirty Years— The Rival Houses of 
Bourbon and Guise— Continued Persecution in France- 
La Renaudie's Plan of Revenge— Sympathy of Anne, 
Duchess of Guise— Correspondence on the part of Olym- 
pia Morata. 



^glWHE France which Eenee left in the 
Y^S ^I'^shness of her early girlhood, dif- 
^WF fered widely from the France to which 
she returned, a widow and an outcast, separa- 
ted from her younger children by the mandate 
of her own son. 

At the court of France, Eenee must have 
felt herself as belonging to a bygone genera- 
tion. Thirty years left only here and there 
one of a generation she had known. Louise 
of Savoy, Francis I., and Marguerite, were 
no longer there to greet her. Many of the 
intermediate generation of the royal house 
had also passed away. The three sons of 



106 THE DUCHESS RENEE 

tlie good Queen Claude were all numbered 
witli the dead ; so also was their sister Mag- 
dalene. Of the former celebrities, the Con- 
stable de Montmorency alone survived to re- 
call to Rente's remembrance the chivalrous 
age of Francis I. 

The political aspect of France was as much 
changed as the personal aspect of its court. 
The interest with which foreign affairs had 
been regarded by the nation was now divert- 
ed to domestic broils, and the spectacle which 
the French court displayed at the return of 
Ren^e, was that of an intense struggle be- 
tween two rival houses, each claiming affinity 
with royalty. These were the houses of 
Bourbon and of Guise, the former descend- 
ing from a younger son of St. Louis, the lat- 
ter from Charlemagne. 

The domination of the Guises over France 
and her monarch was never so firm as it 
seemed at least to be at the accession of 
Francis II. Notwithstanding the glare of 
royal favor, they were looked upon as for- 
eigners by the nation, who denounced their 
pretensions to the claims of the " blood roy- 



AND HEE COURT. , 107 

al." Nor was the House of Bourbon disposed 
to acquiesce in their usurped authority. An- 
toine de Bourbon, duke de Yendome, was the 
head of the Bourbon family. By his wife 
Jeanne d'Albret, daughter of Henry II. and 
Marguerite of Navarre, he had acquired pos- 
session of that Httle kingdom. He is de- 
scribed as of a noble and majestic aspect, 
graceful, affable, and open in bearing, and 
yet wanting in all the moral qualities which 
go to make a noble manhood. Incapable of 
mental appHcation, loving luxury, and too in- 
dolent for successful intrigue, he was no match 
for the Guises. Charles, cardinal of Bour- 
bon, was not stronger in qualities which lead 
to honorable distinctiouj or exalt to successful 
leadership of a great party or a great cause. 
But the youngest brother, Louis, prince of 
Cond^, gave promise of a grander develop- 
ment, and "even his enemies grant him to 
have possessed in the highest degree all the 
qualities that make a hero." That he had 
faults cannot be denied ; but they were faults, 
that hke the night, only caused his virtues to 
shine more brightly. 



108 THE DUCHESS REN^E 

The history of France during many years 
of the sixteenth century, is the history of the 
rival houses of Gruise and Bourbon. The 
wars which ensued have been called the wars 
of rehgion in France. The reformed had 
nothing to hope for from the Cardinal of Lor- 
raine; and the trial and execution of the 
brave Du Bourg, gave them to understand 
what might be expected if they appealed to 
their sovereign. Besides this significant act 
of cruelty, edicts, given in the name of the 
young king, and registered by the parliament, 
ordained the destruction of all houses in which 
heretical assemblies had been held, and which 
were never again to be rebuilt, the punish- 
ment of death on all who had been present 
at these assemblies, and the appointment of 
a commissioner to receive secret information 
upon all such cases. 

Arrests were numerous; the property of 
such as sought to save themselves by flight 
was confiscated ; while their forsaken children 
wandered homeless through the streets of the 
city, imploring charity in vain. 

These persecuted people were alternately 



AND HER COUET. 109 

denominated Lutherans and Sacrament arians 
in tlie letters patent which denounced them. 
They were also known as " Christandins," 
and finally their enemies settled down upon 
the name of "Huguenots," a designation 
which they finally acquiesced in themselves. 

At length the arrogance of the cardinal of 
Lorraine brought things to a crisis. An edict 
revoking the donation of domains made by 
Henry, and a positive refusal to discharge 
even the legal obligations of the crown, were 
followed up by a proclamation in the name of 
the king, to the effect that all persons, of 
whatever condition, who had come to the 
court to solicit the payment of debts, or the 
fulfilment of promises, should take their de- 
parture from it in twenty -four hours, on pain of 
being hanged ; and to show what v/as meant, 
a gibbet was forthwith erected near the palace 
in one of the most conspicuous places. As 
almost all the claimants were of the rank of 
gentlemen, the French noblesse took fire at this 
insult, and meditated revenge on its authors. 

There was one Godefroi de Barri, seig- 
neur de la Kenaudie, whose determined char- 



110 THE DUCHESS EEN^E 

acter, activity, and .intelligence, amply fitted 
him to be the leader of a conspiracy. The 
plan proposed was as follows : A large num- 
ber of Huguenots were to present themselves 
unarmed before the king at Blois, with a pe- 
tition imploring him to withdraw the persecu- 
ting edicts, and to grant the Reformed the 
free exercise of their religion. And, since 
these assembling at night had afforded their 
enemies a pretext for calumniating their con- 
duct, they were to beseech the king to grant 
permission for their assembhng in temples 
open to the public, and under the eye of au- 
thority. Meanwhile, when the royal attention 
was attracted to this crowd of unarmed peti- 
tioners at the foot of the throne, five hundred 
horsemen, and a thousand infantry, chosen 
from among gentlemen the most devoted to 
the cause of the Huguenots, were to meet 
from the different provinces, to advance in 
silence, surprise the town of Blois, seize the 
persons of the Guises, bring them to trial, 
engage Francis II. to follow henceforth the 
counsels of the Bourbon princes, and to con- 
voke the States-General. 



AND HEE COUBT. Ill 

The conspiracy failed. The Guises being 
warned, measures were craftily taken to lull 
the Huguenots into a false security, and thus 
to secure their after-destruction. The court 
removed from Blois to Amboise. It was 
known that the secret had transpired, but La 
Kenaudie, judging that matters had gone too 
far to admit of a retreat, pushed the affair to 
extremity. The precautions of the Guises 
were, however, too well taken. La Renaudie, 
at the head of his troops, encountered a royal 
force near his own chateau, and was slain in 
the combat. Another of the leaders, Castel- 
nau, had previously surrendered himself to 
the Duke of Nemours. Mazere and Eaunai 
were also prisoners. Then began those exe- 
cutions which have blackened for ever the 
names of those who ordered them. Not 
less than twelve hundred victims perished 
to glut the vengeance of the brothers of 
Guise. 

" The executions proceeded," says the 
chronicler, "with the greatest diligence, for 
not a day nor a night passed in which a 
good number were not put to death, and all of 



112 THE DUCHESS EEN^EE 

them personages of distinction. Some were 
drowned, others hanged, others beheaded. 
But what was strange to see, and a thing that 
had never happened under any form of gov- 
ernment, was their being led to execution 
without any sentence pubHcly pronounced 
upon them, or any declaration made of the 
reason of their deaths, or even of their names. 
One thing* observed was, that the executions 
were reserved until after dinner, contrary to 
custom ; but the Guises did this expressly to 
afford some pastime for the ladies, who had be- 
come 'weary of being so long in this place. 
And in truth they both — men and women — 
took station at the windows of the castle, as 
if there had been some ' momeries' to be 
played before them, being moved neither by 
pity nor compassion — at least there was no 
appearance of any in them. And what is 
worse, the king and his young brothers ap- 
peared at these spectacles, and the sufferers 
were pointed out to them by the cardinal, 
with the signs of a man who rejoiced greatly 
to animate the prince against his own sub- 
jects; for when they died with the greatest 



AND HEK COUET. 113 

constancy, lie would sa}^, ' Behold, sire, these 
audacious inteiates ! The fear of death 
cannot abate their pride and malice; what 
would they then do if they had you in their 
hands?'" 

The Prince of Cond(^, who, had gone to 
Amboise to disarm suspicion, was an unwil- 
ling v/itness to some of these murders. But 
it is said there was one among the ladies 
of the court to whom these terrible scenes 
did not afford "pastime." Anna d'Este, 
duchess of Guise, bathed in tears, rushed 
from the balcony where she had just v/it- 
nessed the death of Castelnau and his com- 
panions, to the apartment of the queen-moth- 
er, from whom she looked for sympathy, 
because the time had not long gone by when 
Catherine had agreed with her in regarding 
the Huguenots as innocent persons. The 
queen beholding her thus afflicted, demanded 
"what was the matter, and what had hap- 
pened ' to distress her, and to cause such 
strange lamentations." 

" I have," she replied, " all the occasion in 
the world for my grief, for I have just looked 

Duchess Ecuee. Q 



114 THE DUCHESS KENil^E 

upon the most piteous tragedy, and strange 
cruelty in tlie effusion of tlie blood of *tlie 
innocent and good subjects of tlie king, and I 
doubt not but shortly some great misfortune 
will come upon our house for it, and that God 
will wholly exterminate us for the cruelty and 
inhumanities which are perpetrated." 

The idol of a court that could witness such 
scenes unmoYed, and closely allied to the 
leader of a party thirsting for the blood of the 
Eeformed, Anna's heart was thus far tender 
as in her girlhood. We venture to presume 
upon the patience of our readers by copying 
a letter from Olympia Morata, written previ- 
ously to the conspiracy of Amboise, urging 
the Duchess of Guise to intercede in behalf 
of the persecuted Huguenots, her brethren in 
one common faith. 

" Olympia Morata Griinthler oifers to Anna d'Este, 
duchess of Gnise, wislies for her abundant healtli, 
through Jesus Christ. 

''Although, illustrious Princess Anna, we have for 
a long while been jparted by a wide distance from 
place to place ; never yet, up to the present moment, 
have I ceased to remember thee. If I had not, for 
many good reasons, been afraid to do so, I would 



AND HER COURT. 115 

have v/ritten directly to thee. But now, an opportu- 
nity having presented itself in a ^dsit made to us by 
a certain learned and pious man from Lorraine, the 
first use I made of it was to inquire of him how thou 
wert. And in his promising to take care that my let- 
ter should be conveyed to thee, I could not make up 
my mind to think that thou wouldest be so hard-heart- 
ed as not to read with willingness a letter coming 
from one who had been brought up with thee from 
thy early youth. For thou knowest how famiharly 
(though thou wert my princess and mistress) we 
Kved so many years with one another, and how we 
pursued together literary studies which might well 
continually increase the mutual attachment which 
grew up between us. I, for my part, noble princess, 
call God to witness that I wish thee well and desire 
thy good always. Could I in any way be of service 
to thee, not that I should be inclined again to live in 
a court, (for that I might do here, if I would,) but if, 
in my absence from thee, either by a word of consola- 
tion, or in any other way, I can be of advantage to 
thee, be assured that I will do it with a glad mind 
and with special earnestness. There is nothing, how- 
ever, that I long for more, than that thou shouldest 
seriously betake thyself to the study of Holy Scrip- 
ture, which alone can bring thee into union with God, 
and comfort thee in all the sufferings of this life, I 
certainly find consolation and delight nowhere else. 
For as soon as by the signal loving-kindness of God 
I v/as removed from that idolatry which there was in 
Italy, and went into Germany, after my marriage to 



116 THE DUCHESS EENllE 

a physician, Andrew Grnntliler, God wronglit in my 
mind a change hardly to be believed, so that I, who 
before shrank back from the word of God to the far- 
therest extent that I could, now find it all my enjoy- 
ment, and set all my love, care, labor, nay, my whole 
heart, on this ; that as far as jpossible I may despise 
all these things, wealth, honor, pleasure, which I 
used once so fondly to admire. And, in very truth I 
would, my best princess, that thou wouldest again 
and again think on these subjects, believe me. All 
is changing ; and as he (the poet you know of) says, 
' The path of death must, once for all, be trodden by 
every one ;' and -that soon. For years are fleeting ; 
riches are of no avail, honors of none ; royal favor 
of none. No ; only that faith by which we cleave to 
Christ can rescue us from that eternal death and con- 
demnation with it. And since that faith is ' the 
gift of God,' thou shouldest ask it of him with thy 
most urgent prayers. Por it is not enough to know 
the history of Christ ; we must have the faith that 
' works by love, ' which renders thee bold to confess 
Christ among his enemies; otherwise, (saith he,) 
' Whosoever shall be ashamed of me, of him shall I 
also be ashamed before my Father. ' Nor Avould any 
ever have stood forth to be martyrs, if they had con- 
cealed their faith. Wherefore, my sweetest princess, 
since God hath so highly favored thee as to lay his 
truth open to thee, and that thou knowest so many 
of those men who are now being burnt, there where 
thou art, to be entirely innocent, and to be undergo- 
ing torment in so many shapes for the sake of the 



AND HER COURT. 117 

gospel of Clirist, it is beyond question tliy duty to 
show thy .mind, either by pleading in their defence to 
the king, or by interceding with him for them. For 
if thou art silent or connivest at these deeds, and 
sufferest thy fellow-Christians so to be tormented and 
burnt, nor showest even by a word that it grieveth 
thee, thou seemest by that silence to be an accom- 
plice in their slaughter, and to agree with the ene- 
mies of Christ. But perhaps thou wilt say, If I were 
to do that, I might draw on me the anger of the kiug 
and of my husband, and make myself many enemies ; 
consider, then, that it is better for thee to be hated 
of man than of God, who can torment not the body, 
but the soul also, in eternal fire. If he be thy friend, 
none shall be able to harm thee, unless He permit it. 
For all things are in his hand. See that thou ponder 
these things in thy breast. Yfould that I might be 
well informed that thou art seriously cultivating 
piety and fearing God ! Apply thyself dihgently, I 
beseech thee, to Holy Scripture and to j)rayer. 
' Vv^hatsoever, ' saith Christ, 'ye shall ask in my 
name of the Father, he will give it you.' Kemem- 
ber that thou wert born to die, and listen not to 
those who say, ' This life of ours is a very short one, 
therefore let us indulge our bent and enjoy this 
world's pleasure. ' Kather listen to Paul, who says : 
'If ye live after the flesh,' that is, if ye give your- 
selves to the pleasures of the body, ' ye shall perish 
everlastingly. ' At another time I will write more to 
thee of the same purport, if I learn that my letter 
has been acceptable to ihce ; and I vidll take care 



118 



THE DUCHESS RENEE. 



tliat little Christian books shall be conveyed to thee, 
if thou shalt iDrove willing to learn Christ. I have 
"written all this under the constraint of intense love 
of thee. For since God hath called me to his high 
and heavenly kingdom, I desire above all things that 
thou shouldest be partaker of the same eternal bless- 
ing, which if I shall learn, as I wish that I may, 
to be the case with thee, I shall be delighted be- 
yond measure, and render exceeding thanks to God. 
Farewell. 

"Hetdelbekg, July 1, 1554." 





CHAPTEE X. 




Convocation of the States-General— The Arrest of Conde— 
Death of Francis II.~Sir Nicholas Throkmorton. 



NDER tlie influence of opposite, 
tliougli concurrent motiyes, tlie lead- 
ers of all the great rival parties in 
France unanimously advised the king to con- 
vene the States-General of the realm. 

This was the counsel of the whole assembly 
of notables, summoned by the Guises to meet 
at Fontainebleau on the 21st August^ 1560. 
At that assembly, through a manoeuvre on 
the part of their rivals, neither the king of 
Navarre nor the prince of Cond^ v/as pres- 
ent. The brave Coligiii, however, and his 
brothers were there, and the former fearless- 
ly undertook to plead the cause of his perse- 
cuted fellow-Protestants. He presented a 
petition, praying that the rigorous penalties 



120 THE DUCHESS RENEE 

denounced against "those of tlie religion," 
(as the Protestants were frequently styled,) 
might be suspended, and that they might be 
suffered to worship publicly in their own tem- 
ples, instead of being compelled to have re- 
course to secret and illegal assemblies. He 
had the courage to declare that the true rem- 
edy for the perils of the state was the refor- 
mation of the church, and scrupled not to 
counsel that the guards by which the young 
king's person was surrounded should be dis- 
missed, and that the States-General should 
be assembled. 

The king's assent was proclaimed by an 
edict. In the meanwhile the yigilance of the 
Guises detected the formation of another con- 
spiracy, not only against' their authority, but 
against their lives. A messenger with letters 
was arrested, and full measure of blame was 
heaped upon the prince of Concl^. More 
anxious than ever were his enemies to allure 
him to appear at the States-General. To 
effect this the king sent the Count de Crussol 
to invite him. The king of Navarre and 
Cond6 were at N^rac when thus summoned 



• .AND HER COURT. 121 

to place themselves in the hands of their im- 
placable foes. The qneen of Navarre, with 
other female relatives of the Bourbon princes, 
besought them to avoid the snare, but in 
vain. They had both urged the French mon- 
arch to convene the States-General. With 
v/hat plea could they decline to be present at 
its opening? Accompanied by a small body 
of retainers the two princes set out on their 
journey, and proceeded by slow marches 
towards the place of rendezvous. 

The plot of the Guises was being carefully 
matured. Not only the Bourbon princes, but 
Coligni and D'Andelot v^^ere to be numbered 
among the victims. Then was to follow a 
general extermination of the "heretics" 
throughout France, and even, if possible, in 
the neighboring states. But they designed 
that Cond^ should head the catalogue of the 
sacrificed. His prison was already prepared, 
and the decree for his arrest and condemna- 
tion was signed by the king and the lords of 
the court. 

On the 29th October the Bourbon princes 
entered Orleans. From the coldness of their 



122 THE DUCHESS RENEE 

reception, tliey might liave anticipated some- 
thing more than simply the convocation of the 
States-General of France. No one went out 
to greet their arrival. At the royal quarters, 
they were not suffered to ride into the court- 
yard, but were compehed to descend from 
their horses in the street, and to enter through 
a wicket which was opened to give them ad- 
mission. And even here, neither knight nor 
noble appeared to welcome the first princes 
of the blood. 

Ushered into the royal presence, they found 
Francis II. surrounded by the Guises and the 
captains of his guard; his demeanor spoke 
no friendly welcome either to Navarre or to 
Cond6. Nevertheless the king himself con- 
ducted them to the cabinet of the queen- 
mother, who received them with marks of 
favor. " Then," says the historian, " the 
king turned towards the Prince of Condd, 
and complained in bitter terms that, although 
he had never inflicted on him either injury or 
ill-treatment, the prince, in contempt of laws 
human and divine, had several times stir- 
red up his soldiers agains him, had com- 



AND HEE COUET. 123 

meiiced civil war in several parts of the Idng- 
doni, liad attempted to surprise his principal 
towns, and, in short, had plotted against his 
hfe and that of his brothers. 

The brave Conde boldly replied that these 
were calumnies invented by his enemies, and 
that he could establish his own innocence. 

"Well, then," said Francis IL, "to dis- 
cover the truth, it will be necessary to pro- 
ceed by the ordinary modes of justice." And 
leaving the cabinet, he commanded the 
captains of the guard to make Cond6 pris- 
oner. 

The king of Navarre, though not absolutely 
placed, like Conde, under arrest, was in some 
respects treated as a prisoner; his secretary 
also was seized, and compelled to deliver up 
the letters and papers of his master. 

A few days subsequent to the imprison- 
ment of the prince, the Duchess Ren6e hav- 
ing just arrived from Ferrara, hastened to 
pay her respects to her grand-nephew, thfe 
young French sovereign. It would seem that 
Sense's return to France was at an inaus- 
picious moment for herself. To be forced to 



124 THE DUCHESS EENeE 

leave Ferrara for religion's sake, and then to 
find on her arrival in her own country the 
cause with which she was now and henceforth 
to be identified so cruelly menaced, might 
have appalled one whose constancy was less 
mature ; but it did not alarm E.en6e. On the 
contrary, she did not disguise her feelings, 
declaring that if she had arrived before Cond6 
was imprisoned, she v/ouid have prevented it, 
and warning Guise to desist in future from 
offering violence to princes of the royal stock, 
for that such wounds would bleed long, and 
tliat it never ended well with any one who 
had been first in the assault upon chiefs of 
royal blood. 

These brave words must have inspired the 
Huguenots with hope for the future. Not- 
withstanding, the Guises proceeded with 
those forms of justice by which they tried to 
disguise the malignant hate they cherished 
for the prisoner. The commission appointed 
iX) sit in judgment on the prince, comprised 
the first president of the Parisian Parlia- 
ment, Christopher de Thou, Bartli61emy 
Fa^^e, Jacques Yiole, Gilles Bourdin, and 



AND HEE COURT. 125 

Jean du Tillet. Even Chancellor I'Hopital 
lent his influence, by accompanying them to 
the prison of the prince, for the purpose of 
interrogating him. In vain did Conde protest 
against the constitution of this commission, 
and appeal to be tried by the king, the peers, 
and the chambers of the Parliam^ent assem- 
bled. 

The day was fixed for Cond6's sentence and 
execution, the Guises delaying the fulfilment 
of their sanguinary purpose only that they 
might secure a greater number of victims. 
The constable, however, was on his guard, 
and refused to come to Orleans. But the 
brave Cohgni " committed the event to God," 
and continued his journey. How to rid them- 
selves of the King of Navarre w^as the grand 
perplexity of the Guises. At length they 
contrived an expedient worthy of their char- 
acter. They devised the assassination of Na- 
varre by the hand of the young Francis II. 
But it is to the credit of the French king that 
his nature was not ferocious enough for the 
perpetration of such a deed. 

But though the destruction of Conde a^^- 



126 THE DUCHESS EENEE 

peared inevitable, in spite of Imman justice 
and mercy, and tlie Duchess Ken^e's inter- 
vention, an invisible hand wrought for his 
deliverance. Death came to the rescue of 
the prisoner, but in a different way from his 
expectation, or his enemies' intention. Francis 
II. was the victim. The power of the Guises 
fell to the ground, and a cry which spoke con- 
demnation both of the duke and the cardinal, 
arose through the whole of France. 

Taking advantage of the moment, the 
duchess of Montpensier and the Chancellor 
I'Hopital, interposed in behalf of Cond6 
with the queen-mother. Catherine was a 
woman to be moved only by policy. She 
perceived that it was in her power to avail 
herself of the cooperation of the Bourbons 
against the ambition of the Guises. She was 
convinced that the life of Cond^ might be 
more serviceable to her than his death, and 
that with the aid of the two brothers, she 
might become the actual possessor of the 
chief power in the realm. In the mind of 
Catherine such considerations had sufficient 
weight to procure first, the suspension of pro- 



AND HER COURT. 127 

ceedings in Condi's case, and subsequently, 
liis release. 

The States-General were opened at Orleans 
in December, by tlie new king Charles IX., a 
lad of ten years and a half. The name of 
Een^e, duchess of Ferrara, is found in the 
list of royal personages who surrounded the 
young monarch on that occasion. During 
her abode at Orleans, the duchess sent for 
Sir Nicholas Throkmorton, that she might, 
through him, signify to his royal mistress the 
sentiments of esteem and admiration with 
which she regarded Queen Elizabeth. Tlie 
record of the conversation at this interview, 
is contained in a despatch of the ambassador 
to the English queen. We venture to give it, 
as illustrative of the earnestness VAdth which 
Een^e now desired to further the cause of 
truth, being fully persuaded in her own mind, 
and no longer afraid to be known as an adhe- 
rent of the Reformation. 

"to the queen's most excellent ma'^'^- 
''It may please your ma*'^' synce my letters to tlie 
same of the thyrd of Janiiari, sent by De Fariory (?), 
the old diitchesse of Farare (off whose aryyall at thys 



128 THE DUCHESS 11EN:6 E 

courte I did advertyse your ma*''' before tliys tyrne) 
did send on off liys servants nnto me with goode 
words of vystation ; who desyrd me on hys behalffe 
to take the payns to come and vysyte hyr at hyr lodg- 
yngs unto whom she then (as the messanger sayd) 
wold declare more off hyr mynd ; wyche, accordyng 
to hyr own order, I dyd the vj"' off Januwary. The 
dutchesse receavyd me wyth courtesy and goode 
words, and mayde me to sytt by hyr in a chayre, and 
sayd unto me, 'Mons'" I'Ambassador, bycause I have 
not the comoditie to let the queue your M'^- knowe of 
my good wyll and affection to hyr, I have desyryed 
you to take the payns to come to me, as the best 
meyne to sujpplie the want, beynge here hyr ambas- 
sador.' 'I tell you, Mons. I'Ambassador,' she sayd, 
'I*doe hyr that reverence, bycause she is a queue 
that belong to her estate, and doth become me. But 
I love and honor [hyr] bycause she is, I here, a Chris- 
tian and virtuous queue, and hathe in hyr realme ad- 
vanced and set forthe the trew servysse, glorie, and 
honor off God, by whose good example and Constance 
thereyn I trust other pryncis will be movyd to do the 
lyke ; so as in thys latter tyme of the world, she may 
(be) reportyd of good ryghte, as good a mynster for 
the restoryng and restitution of God's word off long 
tyme bying oppressyd and darkenyd, as ether was 
Josias yn the putting forthe off the Old Testament 
or Constantyne the New. ' ' Lo, ' sayd she, ' what a 
Lord God is this that doth blemyshe the fame and esti- 
mation of the great men of the world through the 
doyuigs off a weake woman. All theyr victories and 



AND HEK COURT. 129 

conquests,' sayd she, 'dotligive i^lace to tliyse your 
mystres' acts. And for tliys virtuous entrepryse I 
note,' sayd she, 'how the Lord dothe blesse hyr, 
and give her muche felycitie. Fyrst, she hath the 
love and obedyence of her subgetts ; she hath [from 
the] Lord goode successe against hyi* enemies ; she 
ys indued with many good gyftes ; the grettest prin- 
cis of Christendome dothe desyre hyr yn marriage. 
And on thing which ys specially to be notyd. She 
alone hathe done more than hyr syster could do, be- 
yng alive, with on of the grettest x)ryncis of the world, 
yea, jn that wytche never none of her ancestors could 
ever bring to passe. For by occasion of hyr relygion, 
she hath obtainyd the amytie of the realme of Scot- 
land, and moreover thereby she hathe won the favor 
of a greke many yn everie contrie. This prosperitie, ' 
she sayd, 'Mons. I'Ambassador, ys of many folks 
moche regardyd, insomoche as I judge theyre be many 
of sondry estates, yea, yn those that be not of hyr 
relygion, that ar perswaded that the Lord dothe sus- 
tayne her and prosper hyr proceedyngs, and theyrby 
are more inclynyd to give care to the treuthe. ' ' I 
thynke, ' sayd she, ' the quene-mother, beyng a ver- 
tuous and sage lady, dothe begynn to herkynne to 
the treuthe, and can be contented that abusys be re- 
formed in the churches of thys realme which,' sayd 
she, ' wold in my oppinion, take better effect yff the 
queue your M'"^- would use some jDersuasions either by 
wryting or otherwyse unto hyr. You will not be- 
lieve, ' sayd she, ' the goode towardness that ys in the 
kyng for hys age, and yt were grett pytie that he 

riie. Duchess lienee. v) 



130 THE DUCHESS EENEE 

should not be instructed in tlie treuthe, seyng so 
good a dysposition and so grett a spryte be mette in 
liym togetlier. And as the quene your mystres is 
the j)rincipall mynyster of the advancement off the 
kyngdome of God and hys Yv'ord yn hys own realme, 
and in the reahne of Scotland, so may she be the 
anchor of the same grace, il she wyll, in this realme, 
and so consequently through all Europe. For,' said 
she, ' if tliys realme be converted, all other contrees 
wyll embrace the same relygion. ' I answered ' that 
I was well assuryd your ma*'® wold verie thankfully 
accept her goode affection, and gladly embrace hyr 
amytie yn respecte of her vertew, wysdom, and estate. 
But I thought thys should be to your ma*^® most ac- 
ceptable, that she dyd grounde hyr goode wyll upon 
the occasion of relygion, your ma"'' esteeming that 
the beste aud most parfecte amytie which iDroceeded 
from that fondation. And I dyd assuer hyr to ad- 
vertyse your ma''° by my next dyspatche of hyr good 
mynd and the reasons off ytt. ' 

"The sayd duchesse sayd unto me, 'Mons. I'Am- 
bassador, you for your owne parte may do some 
goode yn the matter. For v>^hen occasions be offeryd 
you to have conference with the quene-mother, jou 
may use some i3erswasions unto hyr to induce her 
thereto. Theyre is,' sayd she, 'no meyns so cer- 
tayne and so goode to establyshe a perfect and as- 
suryd amytie betwyxte France and England, as an 
amytie in religgion, and by thys meyns,' sayd she, 
' you shall do youre dutie to God, and your M'^' and 
hyr realme, good servycc.' I sayd to the duchesse 



AND HER COURT. 131 

that ' I had a goode wyll to employ all that was yn 
me to so goode a conclusion. But I dyd se yn the 
contrayrie religgion [that] unitie did not allways occa- 
sion amytie. ' ' That showeth, ' sayd the duchesse, ' the 
sjpryte of that religgion to be the spryte off error. But, ' 
sayd she, ' Mons. I'Ambassador, that dyscord ys not 
amongste those that profess the treuthe. ' I answered 
that, ' as thys day yn all estates the case of relygion 
was estemyd so to touche the polycie (wheareoff in 
other pryncis' centres ambassadors ought to speak 
warely) as I dyd take myselffe not to be a fytt instru- 
ment to haA^e to do in that matter. But rather 
thoughte that she (beyng the king's nere kynswoman, 
and no stranger, and yn credytte Avith the quene- 
mother, .the kyng of Navarr, and all other grett per- 
sonages of thys realme, the duke of Guise havyng 
here in this courte a gTett authorytie, beyng hyr son- 
yn-laAv) was in my opinyon a most convenient meyne 
to worke in the matter ; and methought, ' I sayd, 
'she could not but grettly promote the matter 
Avhyche she dyd so moche dessyr the advancement 
off. I sayd hyr words must be taken to ]3rocede 
only off zeale off relygion and tranquiUytie off the 
realme. Peradventure an embassador's words (hoAV 
well sowever they were ment) should have another 
interjpretation, ' She sayd, ' Mons. I'Ambassador, you 
know what you have to do, but I thynke whatsowever 
the queue your M'^^- shall do in the matter, or what- 
sowever you shall say, cannot but take goode effecte. ' 
Then she sayd, 'besyds these resx)ects that dothe 
moA^e me to love and honor the queue your M™-' 



132 THE DUCHESS RENf^E 

wheareoff I have alredy spokyne to you, theyre is 
another cause wyche, though yt be off les wheight, 
dothe worke yn me a parciall goode wyll towards 
hyr. Theyre was an old auquayntance betwyxte the 
queue hyr mother and me, when she was on oif my 
syster-quene Claude's mayds of honor.' I did tell 
the duchesse that I would not forgett to advertysse 
your ma*'® of all that she sayd unto me. And so after 
a few obsequious words I took my leave of her. 
While the duchesse of Farare and I talked together, 
the duchesse of Guise, hyr daughter, came ynto the 
chamber. It may please your ma*'® at the next dys- 
patche to gratifie the sayd duchesse off Farare ether 
with your letters or some other yysytation on your 
behalf. 

[Dated from Orleans, the 10th of January, 1560, 
(61,) and signed,] 

"Your ma"® most humble, faythf"' 

" Obedient servant and subgett, 

"K THROKMOETON." 





CHAPTEE XI. 

The Triumvirate— Colloquy of Poissy— The Edict of Janua- 
ry — The Massacre of Yassy — Montargis — Malicome. 

EOM Orleans King Charles, with 
his court, proceeded to Fontainebleau. 
Duchess Kenee was still with the 
Fortune continued to smile on the 
House of Bourbon. The prince of 
Cond6 presented himself at Fontainebleau, 
when a decree of the council speedily relieved 
him from the sentence whiqh had hung over 
his head ever since his arrest at Orleans. 
The king of Navarre won from the queen- 
mother the office of lieutenant-general of 
France. But new troubles were impending; 
the Guises were too strong to yield their 
position without a struggle. The jealous old 
Constable de Montmorency joined himself to 
the duke's party, and the Marshal St. Andrd 



134 THE DUCHESS EENEE 

offered his assistance, "for the defence of the 
Cathohc religion," an alHance which procured 
for its chiefs the name of " The Triumvirate." 
The Parhament, formerly so liberal in its re- 
hgious tendencies, breathed a spirit of intol- 
erance. It desired to revive the ancient ordi- 
nances against heretics, and even accused the 
queen-mother of betraying both the religion 
and the laws of the kingdom, by permitting 
men to reenter her councils who had abjured 
the faith of their fathers. 

Its harsh policy triumphed in an edict which 
declared the celebration of religious worship 
by the Protestants to be punishable wdtli 
death and confiscation of goods. One clause 
alone, which prohibited domiciliary visits of 
an inquisitorial character, tended to afford 
some alleviation of its vexatious tyranny. 

The Duke of Guise was loud in his exulta- 
tion. But Coligni and the Huguenots pro- 
tested against the least encroachment on the 
scant measure of toleration which they had 
enjoyed since the beginning of the year. Nor 
did popular opinion stamp its approval on the 
course which the Parliament had taken. The 



AND IIET. CObllT. 135 

celebrated Colloqu}^ of Poissy, in v/Licli tlie 
cardinal of Lorraine and Theodore Beza con- 
sented to meet eacli otlier in order to discuss 
the doctrine of the Eucharist, seemed to prom- 
ise the introduction of a milder spirit into 
reHgious controversy. 

At this period more than two tliousand re- 
formed congregations existed in the kingdom. 
In the territory of Navarre, the cause of the 
Keformation was warmly cherished and pro- 
moted. The noble Jeanne d' Albert was no 
waverer between two opinions, like her hus- 
band ; and the indomitable courage displayed 
by her in behalf of the cause she had espous- 
ed, stood out in remarkable contrast to his 
vacillating wealmess. Into the mind of her 
son Henry she infused a zeal and an earnest- 
ness that fitted him in a great degree for the 
leadership of the French Huguenots, a post 
of honor and of difficulty which he well sus# 
tained. Jeanne was worthy of her mother 
MargTierite de Yalois. The Duchess Ken^e 
knew them well, and valued each very highly. 
In a letter to Calvin she says : " The queen of 
Navarre w^as the first princess of this kingdom 



136 THE DUCHESS RENEE 

wlio favored tlie gospel." Of Jeanne, Een^e 
commends " the good zeal and the good judg- 
ment," adding with affectionate warmth, "I 
love her with a mother's love, and praise the 
graces which God has bestowed upon her." 

It is impossible to ascertain the precise 
time when Ken^e took up her abode at Mon- 
targis after her return from Italy. It would 
seem that this city did not form part of her 
marriage dower, but, being assigned to her 
in compensation for any conceivable claims 
which she might prefer to her ancestral rights, 
it became the home of her widowhood. Not 
alone as the home of Een6e, but a century 
later as the birthplace of Madame Guyon, 
Montargis is deservedly dear to us. 

In the old Castle of ]\Iontargis, situated 
about sixty miles in a southeasterly direction 
from Paris, and bordered by an extensive for- 
est, we find Ren^e endeavoring to improve 
the people by whom she was surrounded. 
The revenue derived from Montargis was very 
small, and was entirely absorbed by the ex- 
penses contingent on the troubles of those 
times. The castle, however, afforded a shel- 



AND HER COURT. 137 

ter during tlie tempest of civil wars, a shelter 
tliat its mistress was always ready to share 
with the poor and down-trodden Eeformists. 

At the commencement of the year 1562, 
Catherine de' Medici, with the cooperation of 
L'Hopital, convoked at St. Germain an as- 
semblage of deputies from the eight par- 
liaments of France. These deputies were 
chosen by the chancellor himself, and their 
concurrence in the measure of toleration 
which he designed to establish by their means 
could therefore be relied upon. The result 
was " The Edict of January," which granted 
permission to the Huguenots to assemble for 
worship in fields without the towns, and 
placed these assemblies under the protection 
of the law. 

Acceptable as this tolerant decree must 
have been to the Huguenots, they were still 
far from being allowed to enjoy in peace the 
liberty of worship that it proclaimed to them. 
The Parliament of Paris refused to register 
the edict; nor did it comply until after re- 
peated commands from the queen-mother. 
Meanwhile the sky was darkening. Pope 



138 THE DUCHESS EENeE 

Pius lY. and Philip II., king of Spain, were 
alike enraged at the repeated conferences 
with the Protestants. Not discussion, but 
extermination, was their remedy for reHgious 
divisions. And the apparent defection of the 
queen-mother from the Catholic cause gave 
X3retext to some of its more zealous advocates 
to open a treasonable correspondence with 
the court of Spain. The Cardinal Ippolito 
d'Este had succeeded in winning over An- 
toine of Navarre from the Huguenot to the 
Catholic party. Antoine pretended to have 
been convinced of the fallacy of the argu- 
ments in behalf of the reformed doctrine by 
the Colloquy of Poissy, but the true motive 
must be traced to the lure held out to him of 
the possible restoration of that part of his 
ancient kingdom which Spain had formerly 
wrested from the Navarre dominions, and 
held with unrelaxed grasp ever since. 

Overcome by this temptation, the king of 
Navarre sent his queen back to Beam, dis- 
missed Beza and the reformed preachers from 
his household, changed the preceptors of his 
son, quarrelled with the Chatillons, and even 



AND IIEE COURT. 139 

went so far as to demand their dismissal from 
the court. This aroused Catherine's spirit, 
and in turn, she dismissed the Cardinal de 
Tournon, and commanded the Marshal St. 
Andr6 to take his departure to Lyons. He 
refused to obey. To free herself of his pres- 
ence, Catherine removed with the king her 
son to the chateau of Monceaux in Brie. 

The parliaments of Dijon and Aix refused 
to register the " Edict of January," and their 
disapprobation was followed in Burgundy and 
Provence by revolting cruelties practised on 
the unhappy Huguenots. 

The Duke d'Aumale, governor of Burgun- 
dy, was little inclined to favor the government 
scheme of toleration. Still the queen-mother 
and the good Chancellor I'Hopital flattered 
themselves that, weary of constant strife, the 
partisans of the two religions would become 
tolerant of each other's existence. They were 
deceived. Already the Triumvirate were pre- 
paring to assert the supremacy of the Catho- 
lic creed by open hostilities on the battle-field. 

Being invited to return to Paris by the king 
of Navarre, their former foe and new ally, the 



140 THE DUCHESS HENeE 

cardinal of Guise and his elder brother, Anna 
of Este's husband, who since his father's 
death hath taken the title of the Duke of 
Guise, set forth from the chateau of Joinville, 
and the next day arrived at Yassy. In this 
town a Huguenot congregation had been 
formed about six months previously, and it 
now comprised between eight and nine hun- 
dred people — a large proportion of the popu- 
lation of the place, which consisted of not 
more than three thousand souls. 

On that fatal day they were assembling for 
their Sabbath worship without the walls, in 
obedience to the regulations of the new edict, 
and ignorant of the doom awaiting them. 
Unhappily, the sound of the bells which sum- 
moned the worshippers, attracted the atten- 
tion of the travellers. Turning to the keeper 
of the hotel, one of them asked the meaning 
of the bells ringing at that particular hour in 
the morning. He was told that it was for 
the worship of the Huguenots, whereat the 
Duke of Guise, who overheard the reply, ex- 
claimed, with an oath, "We will Huguenot 
them presently after another fashion." 



AND HEE COUET. 141 

The duke and his armed escort hastened at 
once to the barn where the simple service of 
the Huguenots was proceeding. The congre- 
gation, knowing that they had the sanction of 
the new edict, turned out the intruders, and 
fastened the door against them. But the sol- 
diers of Guise speedily broke through the in- 
sufficient barrier, and began to discharge their 
pistols and harquebusses among the terrified 
people. A stone thrown in self-defence by 
one of the Huguenots, struck the duke on his 
cheek, and caused the blood to flow. This 
was the signal for an indiscriminate slaughter. 
Sixty-four persons were slain, either in the 
barn, or while endeayoring to effect their 
escape, and more than two hundred were 
grievously wounded. In this outrage, as in 
the executions which followed the discovery 
of the " Conspiracy of Amboise," the only 
voice of mercy was that of Anna d'Este, 
duchesse of Guise, who chanced to be ac- 
companying her husband. 

Tidings of this dreadful event were not long 
in reaching Montargis. Immediately Eenee 
gave command that the gates of the town 



142 THE. DUCHESS RENEE 

should, be guarded, without preventing tlie 
ingress or egress of either CathoHc or Hugue- 
not. The duchess had good cause for pre- 
cautionary measures. The seditious temper 
of the townspeople was instantly aroused at 
the sound of strife abroad in the land. The 
head forester of Montargis was the leader of 
the disaffected on this occasion. "He was 
secretly fayored by some of the magistrates, 
who caused a report to be circulated, that 
they of the religion would come and throw 
down the images on the night of the Ascen- 
sion." 

Under color of this pretext, they placed in 
the church a garrison of thirty men in cors- 
lets, armed with lances and harquebusses. 
On the eye of the ilscension this number was 
doubled, their design being to issue from the 
church at midnight, and to cut the throats of 
all the Protestants on whom they could lay 
hands in the town. "But God willed it," 
continues the historian of the Reformed 
churches of France, "that madame being 
warned thereof, should break this blow, 
roughly menacing him whom she ought to 



AND HER COURT. 113 

have had hung, and prohibiting, by the town- 
bailiff, the assemblage of persons either by 
day or night, under pain of corporal pimish- 
ment. Nevertheless, so far were the mutinous 
from receding on that account, that the next 
day, at seven o'clock in the evening, from six 
to seven hundred of them assembled at the 
temple [church] with such arms as they could 
get, and with noise louder than the sound of 
the tocsin, they rushed to the house of a poor 
blind innkeeper, intending to kill him. The 
wretched man hastened to hide -himself in 
the loffc, but his wife, also aged, was w^ound- 
ed on her chin with a blow from a stick, 
and, after being cruelly mutilated, was left 
for dead." 

The "Dame de Montargis" had need of 
nerve among such men of violence. They 
were not appeased with the blood of a poor 
old woman, and from the house of the inn- 
keeper they betook themselves to the dw^ell- 
ing of the town-bailiff, whose profession of 
the reformed doctrine had made him unpopu- 
lar, insincere as that profession afterv/ards 
proved to be. But the bailiff's house was 



144 THE DUCHESS EEN^^E 

better defended than the former, and they 
were repulsed. The uproar soon reached the 
ears of the duchess, who sent down from the 
chateau some of the gentlemen of her house- 
hold to appease the tumult, to the great peril 
of their lives. " Nevertheless," adds the his- 
torian, "that gave some respite to those of 
the religion; they kept themselves on theii: 
guard, while Madame, having sent in all haste 
to the prince [of Cond^] at Orleans, obtained 
from thence some horse and foot-soldiers, 
who, on their arrival, disarmed the seditious 
by her command, their arms being carried 
into the castle. Some of them were impris- 
oned, whereof three were hung by sentence 
of the provost-marshal, and the rest were set 
at liberty sometime afterwards, through Re- 
nte's clemency." 

The prompt measures and firm attitude of 
the duchess in the midst of these alarming 
circumstances, and her wisely-mingled admin- 
istration of justice and mercy after the tumult 
was suppressed, were followed by the happi- 
est results. Her Komanist subjects learned 
that their lady would suffer no intolerance, 



AND HEE COUET. 145 

and that she was resolved to uphold her au- 
thority in Montargis. So that while without 
its walls all was agitation, a perfect tranquil- 
lity reigned within, and "Montargis became 
a place of refuge for the Huguenots from sev- 
eral parts of the kingdom, as from Paris, 
Melun, Nemours, Louis, Sens, Blois, Tours; 
nay, even of many of the Roman religion fly- 
ing from the tumults of war, of which this 
good duchess received several terrible assaults, 
after that tlie prince, seeing the army of his 
enemies approaching Orleans, had sent to 
recall all his men." 

The patience of the Hug-uenots had been 
exhausted by the massacre of Vassy. Noth- 
ing seemed to be left for them but an appeal 
to arms, Calvin, indeed, had distinctly en- 
joined the duty of passive endurance of 
oppression, and condemned an armed defence 
of the rights of conscience. But the Protes- 
tants attempted to justify themselves. They 
had also a prince of the blood-royal for their 
leader. "The blood of the martyrs is" in- 
deed "the seed of the church." But the 
seed which fructifies to such a harvest is the 

TheDuohess Keiiee. 10 



146 THE DUCHESS RENl^E 

blood of patient souls, " led as slieep to the 
slaughter." 

The fine saying of Beza in reply to the 
King of Navarre, who was justifying the Duke 
of Guise in the matter of Yassy, deserves to 
be remembered. " Sire, it is true that it is 
the part of the church of God, in whose be- 
half I speak, to endure blows, not to give 
them — but, may it please you to remember, 
that it is an anvil which hath worn out many 
hammers." 

A few months later, when the war had be- 
gun in earnest, the royal army on its return 
from the siege of Bourges passed through 
Montargis, thereby causing much terror to 
the Protestant inhabitants of the place. The 
duchess was no less anxious for the safety 
of the poor Huguenots and their families, ex- 
posed to the insults of an inflamed soldiery, 
under the leadership of merciless men. She 
advised the reformed minister of Montargis 
to withdraw to a chateau whose owner was 
friendly to the persecuted. The Castle of 
Montargis was filled to overflov/ing, and re- 
sembled a hospital. It is possible that this 



AND HEE COUET. 147 

spectacle moved even their enemies to com- 
passion. The cardinal of Lorraine and Ma- 
dame de Guise, who were with the advanced 
guard of the army, were the first to arrive at 
Montargis. They strove to allay the fears of 
the duchess on behalf of her peoj)le, by assu- 
ring her that they desired the arrest of no one 
on account of his religion, but merely of reb- 
els who were occupying the towns of the king. 
After the cardinal and the Duchess of Guise, 
came the young king, followed by the Duke of 
Guise. Charles "caressed much the Isidj, 
his aunt, kissing her several times and shed- 
ding tears." But surrounded by his friends, 
it was impossible for Duchess Ren^e to con- 
verse with him with regard to his mil in these 
matters. 

Meanwhile the army quartered in the to\^ai 
of Montargis justified the dread with which 
its arrival had been apprehended. The Hu- 
guenots, indeed, were out of the reach of its 
fury, but the bloodthirsty soldiers wreaked 
their vengeance on the Protestant church, 
tearing down seats and demolishing the pul- 
■pit, and reerecting as many images and altars 



148 THE DUCHESS EENl:E. 

as they could find, in the places whence the 
zeal of the Keformed had removed them. 
Those, too, who had been banished from 
Montargis, availed themselves of this oppor- 
tunity to return, uttering menaces against 
such as were beyond the reach of their hate ; 
which state of things being reported to Ke- 
n6e, she promptly obtained from the king a 
proclamation, by the sound of a trumpet, that 
no outrage should be offered to any partisan 
of either creed, under penalty of death. 

But the peace of the good duchess was 
much troubled by this visitation. For the 
Duke of Guise, although Een^e was his 
mother-in-law, deprived her of the guardian- 
ship of Montargis, and committed it to an 
archer of the guard, an apostate from the 
Eeformed religion, and on that account fa- 
vored by the duke. The duchess was also 
forbidden to admit her own domestics to 
hear the instruction of the Huguenot min- 
isters, but this decree was of short continu- 
ance. 

The boldest attack on Eenee was made 
early in 1563, during the siege of Orleans. 



AND HEE COUllT. 149 

Success appeared ready at last to crown the 
ambition of the Duke of Guise. The king of 
Navarre was dead of a wound received at 
Eouen, the Prince of Cond^ was a prisoner. 
The constable w^as a prisoner in the hands of 
the enerny, shut up in Orleans, so that every- 
thing seemed to be in the power of the duke. 
Having therefore no cause to dread being 
called to account for what he might choose to 
do, he gave orders in the council, in the king's 
name, that the Duchess Ren6e should be re- 
moved from Montargis, and be required to 
take up her abode in one of three prescribed 
palaces. The plea of " the king's service," 
colored this odious rescript; the town and 
castle of Montargis being, as the duke de- 
clared, " of very great importance." 

Poulin, Baron de la Garde, was charged 
with the execution of this commission, by 
letters express from the queen mother. The 
Sieur de Malicorne followed in his steps with 
four companies of horse, to strike terror into 
the heart of the duchess, and to compel her 
to instant submission. The townspeople 
opened the gates to Malicorne on his arrival, 



150 THE DUCHESS EENeE 

and the populace began to rage witla increased 
audacity. 

From tlie windows of her chateau Rende 
looked down on the furious mob and the bru- 
tal soldiery. They were wreaking a pitiful 
vengeance on a poor Huguenot whom they 
had dragged from his sick bed and were 
beating without mercy. In desperation, to 
free himself from his tormentors, the misera- 
ble sufferer threw himself into the river, when 
a "harquebusade" was opened upon him, 
and he was finally despatched by dagger 
wounds. But there was no terror in the 
heart of the duchess. Her reply to the 
summons of surrender was as fearless as it 
was decisive. She said that she saw plainly 
that it was not for the king's service they 
wished to dislodge her; that there was no 
ground for the allegation that Montargis was 
a place of great importance, because neither 
the town nor the castle was tenable against 
an assault, without great repairs, and that 
injury to the king's cause could not proceed 
from a place which was already in the hands 
of an archer of the royal guard, who had 



AND HER COUET. 151 

been left by Guise in cliarge of it. And she 
denied that there was a single person in the 
chateau who was not, and had not ever been, 
the king's very humble servant. She repre- 
sented that to place her in any one of the pre- 
scribed palaces, v/hich were unfortified, and 
two of which were at the very gates of Paris, 
would expose her to the risk of slaughter, 
which she had not merited, and which she 
well knew that the king her nephew did not 
intend. And therefore she desired to be 
more fully informed of the king's will, and 
prayed Poulin to return to the court with a 
gentleman of her party, for the better under- 
standing thereof. 

During the absence of Poulin on this er- 
rand, Malicorne, eager to prove himself the 
devoted follower of Guise, presumed to men- 
ace the Duchess Eenee, in the hope of bring- 
ing her to unconditional obedience. He 
threatened an assault of the citadel by a 
storming party with battering engines, and 
even went so far as to apply to the Sieur de 
Biron for some pieces of cannon which he 
had brought from Paris to the siege of Or- 



152 THE DUCHESS RENEE 

leans. Een^e answered the upstart riglit roy- 
ally, bidding liim beware what he did, for that 
no one throughout the realm of France had 
any authority over her but the king. And 
she assured him that if he came against her 
castle with artillery, she would take her stand 
upon the breach, and would try, at the risk of 
her life, whether he or any beside him, was 
so foolhardy as to dare to slay the daughter 
of the best and mightiest of kings. She 
added, that " she had no lack of friends and 
relatives, who would avenge with spirit any 
injury done to herself, on the persons of 
those who should incur such serious guilt, 
and would inflict punishment of the most 
signal kind, not only upon them, but upon 
their children, even on their very babes in 
the cradle." 

Malicorne, who looked not for such an an- 
swer, quailed before the stern determination 
of the woman, and forbore to proceed to vio- 
lent measures. Before any further molesta- 
tion reached Ren^e, tidings came that the 
Duke of Guise was mortally wounded. On 
receiving this message Malicorne hastened 



AND HER COURT. 153 

back to Orleans. And "tlms," concludes 
the chronicler, "was Montargis preserved, 
with those who had retired thither, each of 
whom returned afterwards to his house, in 
hope of the enjoyment of the edict of peace." 
There was a lull in the tempest, but the clouds 
were still threatening. 






CHAPTEK XII. 

Assassination of the Duke of Gnise— Coligni, Soubise, and 
Beza accused of Complicity—Calvin's Influence— Steps 
taken by the House of Guise— Calvin's Letter— A Glimpse 
of Eenee's Inner Life. 

[HE assassination of the Duke of Guise, 
wliile it delivered the Protestants 
of France from a sanguinary enemy, 
bore bitter fruit afterwards. The murderer 
accused Coligni, Soubise, and Beza, of com- 
plicity in the deed of blood. They indig- 
nantly repelled the accusation. Cohgni, in- 
deed, while proving that he had not in the 
least had to do with it, admits that he was 
aware of the threats of Poltrot, whom, how- 
ever, he regarded as a vain braggart. But 
on his life and honor, he declared that he 
had neither induced, solicited, nor sought for 
any one to act the part of a murderer, by 



THE DUCHESS liEN^E. 155 

words, money, or promises. Yet there were 
those among the Huguenots who lauded the 
bloody undertaking ; and we cannot sufficient- 
ly deplore the fierce excitement of men's minds 
in that stormy period, which led even good 
men to excuse or palliate these unlawful deeds 
under the plea of seK-defence. "More than 
once it was Calvin himself who held back the 
hands of those who longed to embrue them 
in the blood of Frangois de Guise, the ruffian 
of Yassy." 

" I can protest," he wrote to the Duchess of 
Ferrara, "that it was entirely owing to me 
that, before the war began, men of daring 
courage had not tried to rid the v/orld of 
him; they vrere held back solely by my ex- 
hortations." 

The Duchess of Guise, adopting the suspi- 
cion that ColigTii had incited Poltrot to mur- 
der hsr husband, now presented a request to 
the council of the king that the admiral 
should be placed on his trial before the said 
council. When Coligni heard this, he set out 
from Chatillon-sur-Loing, with a retinue of 
six hundred gentlemen, and directed his steps 



15G THE DUCHESS RENJfiE 

to St. Germain's, where tlie court then was, to 
the great alarm of the queen-mother. Cathe- 
rine prayed Cond6 to go to meet the admiral, 
and induce him to return home with his 
retinue. D'Andelot, the admiral's younger 
brother, however, presented himself before 
the council alone, and protested that the 
deposition of Poltrot was false and calumni- 
ous, being made under the pressure of fright- 
ful torture. Nevertheless, the Duchess Anna 
and the family of Guise would not consent to 
forego their demand for vengeance upon the 
admiral. 

The formal consideration of this request 
had been postponed by the king, while yet a 
minor. But as soon as the majority of Charles 
IX. had been declared, the Guises resolved to 
urge their suit again. Antoinette de Bour- 
bon, mother of the late duke, and Anna 
d'Este, his widow, presented themselves Jbe- 
fore the king in long black robes. They 
were followed by the children of Francois 
de Guise, also b}^ veiled women, who made 
the air resound with their cries and groans, 
and by all the relatives and friends of the 



AND HER COURT. 157 

family clad in mourning. The two ducliesses 
threw themselves at the feet of the king on 
their knees, crying "justice." The king 
promised them "justice," and consented that 
the Parliament of Paris should entertain the 
question ; but the Cardinal de Chatillon pro- 
tested against the trial of Coligni by judges 
whose partiality was well known, and who 
were already swayed by their prejudices in 
all matters affecting a Huguenot. The king 
commanded that the decision should be sus- 
pended for three years. But the subject was 
not permitted to rest. The ambassadors of 
the pope, the emperor and the king of Spain, 
had audience of Catherine at Fontainebleau, 
addressing her a solemn invitation to be pres- 
ent at Nancy, where also the other Christian 
princes would be assembled to take cogni- 
zance of the canons of the council of Trent; 
to swear to observe them, and to come to mu- 
tual understanding as to the means to be em- 
ployed everywhere, and at the same time for 
the destruction of heres}^ They urged tlipot the 
king should pursue with the utmost vigor the 
authors and accomplices of the detestable 



158 THE DUCHESS EENli^E 

assassination of the Duke of Guise ; and lastly, 
that he should abstain from ahenating the 
goods of the clergy, inasmuch as the king of 
Spain and the Duke of Savoy had no desire 
to be paid their wives' dowry with money 
derived from such a source. They offered, 
also, for the accomplishment of these objects, 
to succor the king with all the forces of their 
respective states. It is probable, says the 
historian Sismondi, that the principal end 
of the pope and the king of Spain in send- 
ing this solemn embassy, was to compromise 
the king with his Protestant subjects. Cathe- 
rine saw the snare and avoided it, by dictating 
a reply to her son which defined nothing, and 
left him unfettered. There was no conference 
in Lorraine on the day which the ambassadors 
had. appointed. 

The quarrel between the Chatillons and the 
Guises came to a satisfactory settlement in 
1566, at Moulins. The admiral cleared him- 
self by oath from the murder of Duke Fran- 
cois. Thereupon Anna d'Este and the car- 
dinal of Lorraine, by command of the king, 
embraced the admiral, and the reconciled 



AND HER COURT. 159 

parties mutually promised to nourish resent- 
ment against one another no longer. But 
the young cluke Henry cle Guise, and D'Au- 
male, his uncle, had no share in this ceremo- 
ny. On the fatal day of St. Bartholomew, 
Guise and his band of assassins gratified their 
revenge with the blood of Coligni. 

The Duchess de Guise had long retained 
the early bias of her mind towards the Ee- 
formed; even the cardinal of Lorraine once 
declared that " he knew his sister-in-law was 
a Protestant, and that she caused his son to 
be privately instructed in the Augsburg Con- 
fession." But from the time of her husband's 
murder a change passed over her, and she 
became inimical to the struggling cause. The 
Koman-catholic ladies of the court regarded 
her as their leader, and Calvin, in a letter to 
Ben^e, complains of the course of action pur- 
sued by Madame de Guise, and entreats the 
maternal interference. We copy it, as showing 
the tenderness of the Eeformer, and his un- 
willingness to lose an opportunity to employ 
his influence where possible good could be 
effected. 



160 THE DUCHESS EENllE 

"Madame : I am rejoiced to liaye an opportunity 
of writing to yon with safety by the bearer ; not that 
I have any great matter at this time, but that I may 
acquit myself of my duty, and also because I think 
that my letters are always welcome to you through 
your favor, when they can minister to your profit. 
I would, moreover, take pains to convey them to 
you more frequently, but tliat you have, thank God, 
in your household, one comx3etent to exhort you, and 
to confirm you, whereinsoever you have need. I 
have no tidings to send you which you do not know 
already, especially none which would give you joy ; 
and I love not to vex you, although I am constrained 
to unburden my heart, not without great regret, of a 
grief which is common to all the children of God. 
You know, madame, what the enemies of the truth 
are plotting : witness the league of the pope with the 
king of Spain, the Venetians, and potentates of Italy, 
in which our neighbor is comprehended ; it seems, 
indeed, to them that they ought to exterminate all 
Christianity from the world. Meanwhile Madame 
de Guise takes a course which can only result in her 
confusion if she i3ersevere, for though she thinks not 
of it, she seeks the ruin of the poor churches of France, 
of whom God will be the protector, and uphold their 
cause. I protest once more, madame, that I would 
willingly abstain from wearying you, but on the other 
hand, I greatly desire that she may be induced by 
your authority to moderate her passions, which she 
can only obey as she does, by fighting against God. 
I tell you frankly, madame, what every one knows, 



AxN^D HEE COUIIT. 161 

that you may consider, according to your discretion, 
T/liat good expedient to provide in order to x^ersuade 
her not to conspire with those who only seek to abol- 
ish pure religion, and not to entangle herself in de- 
vices of which the issue can only be calamitous, inas- 
much as they are contrary to God. Madame, after 
having very humbly recommended myself to your 
good grace, I will supphcate our heavenly Father to 
keep you always in his protection, to strengthen you 
with his might, and to increase you in all wealth and 
prosT)erity. 

"From Geneva, this " 

The death of the Duke of Guise, as we 
have seen, reheved Ihe Duchess Ken6e from 
a perplexing, if not a dangerous position ; yet 
her perceptions of a Christian's duty were too 
clear to be confused by the passionate excite- 
ments of the age of civil war. Yet her rela- 
tionship to Guise, and her desire that his 
character should be fairly dealt with, seem to 
have caused a misunderstanding in the minds 
of some of the Huguenot party; and thus 
one who had already suffered, for conscience's 
sake, was made to feel the bitterness of cen- 
sure from those whose religious creed was the 
same as her own. A very long letter from 
Eenee to Calvin, in the manuscript collection 

Duchess Eeuee. 11 



162 THE DUCHESS RENEE 

of Dupuy, wliicli lias been assigned to tlie 
year 1563, throws mnch liglit upon tlie diffi- 
culties of her position, and giyes a graphic 
illustration of the petty annoyances to which 
she was subjected. After making known to 
Calvin the reason why she had left the royal 
court, and discoursing of certain matters 
touching the church consistory, she adds : 

" M. Calyin : I am sorry tliat yoii do not know how 
half the world conducts itself in this kingdom, nor 
the habits of adulation and of ill-will which preyail 
in it, even to the exhorting simple young women to 
say that they should hke to kill and strangle with 
their own hands. That is not the rule which Jesus 
Christ and his apostles have given us ; and I say it 
with all the great regret of my heart, on account of 
the affection which I bear to religion and to those 
who bear its title, of all whom I do not speak, but of 
a great part of those whom I know among them. And 
if they should be inclined to say that what I assert is 
dictated by i^assion for my late son-in-law it is well- 
known that I never was so passionately fond of him 
as of my own children ; and those who accuse me 
have not, perchance, considered the proof which I 
have given of my sincerity by haying left them, to 
follow the path and way which God has taught me, 
and the journeys by which he has directed me. But 
I see that there are people who are disposed to take 
the side and adojot the i3assions of others, without 



AND HER COURT. 163 

considering wlietlier tliey proceed from God or not, 
and to twist and pull Holy Scripture to the string of 
their bow, which they themselves have woven, and 
in which course they will at last stumble. And I see 
that they are minded to continue always lying and 
slandering, making their delight of it, and that such 
I)eople give you to understand that a thing is differ- 
ent from what it is. I beg you, M. Calvin, to make 
prayer to God that he would show you the truth of 
all things, as I declare it to you, so far in so many 
matters, as I still entertain hope that by you he will 
expose these hidden workings of malice which I see 
prevail in this age of the world, which state of things 
makes me not only fear and have misgivings, lest the 
chastisement of God fall on those of his church, but 
makes it seem to me that they are, as it were, mani- 
fest. I may add that I have never requested nor 
sought for the ministers from whom I have heard 
such suggestions, to pray for me as for others, and I 
leave always at liberty and to the conscience of every 
one the making prayer ; and as to those to whom I 
give, it would seem as if I wished myself recom- 
I)ensed, if I bade them pray for me. Nevertheless, 
I cease not to pray particularly for those whom it 
seems to me well-pleasing to God that I should pray 
for, specially for those who are of the household of 
faith, and those w^ho publish the word of God, and 
for the king whom God has gi?ven us, and princes, 
lords, and judges of the earth, because God has com- 
manded it, and in order that all may ' lead a quiet and 
peaceable life,' not only in the peace which the world 



164 THE DUCHESS RENJ&E. 

gives, but in that wHcli our Lord lias left to us, and 
I am not one of those who pray, or who cause prayer 
to be made, for those who are no longer in this world, 
I know well that there are those who say, that all 
those who are against (the Reformed) religion, are 
the bad characters, (among men. ) I grant it, but I do 
not know whether God may not be pleased to call 
them. I have no business to complain of them, and 
in myself, I know before God that there are too many 
defects and sins ; but before his creatures, God com- 
mands us to give testimony of our manner of living, 
and to proceed, as I am ready to do, if it shall please 
God ; and as to what I have heard of what is charged 
upon the ministers and children of God, I have not 
held my peace, but have taken on me to protect them 
with more care than I have taken to xorotect myself. 
And I knoAV that there are those who endeavor to 
banish them from this kingdom, for which reason it 
seems to me that one ought not to yield occasion for 
the accomplishment of the designs of those who wish 
to drive them away, which has caused me to be pro- 
lix in this letter and in some others which I have 
from time to time Avritten you, which I have begged 
you to burn, as also I beg you to do with this present 
letter, and to continue to write to me and freely com- 
municate what shall seem good to you, which I shall 
always hear and receive willingly. With this I shall 
conclude, pra3dng to God, M. Calvin, to keex^ you in 
his holy and worthy guardianship. 

" Yours, very truly, 

"EENEE OF FEANCE." 




CHAPTEK XIII. 



Reconciliation of Coligni with tlie House of Guise — The 
Marriage of tlie Ducliess Anna to the Duke cle Nemours— 
Death of Calvin— Letter from the Reformed Churcli at 
Antwerp — The arrival of Alva — The Massacre of Orleans. 



^'^ |-'¥pHE reconciliation afc Moulins betY>^een 
^43p"i Coligni and tlie Ducliess cle Guise was 
^f^^p hastened, perhaps, by reason of her 
impending marriage with Jacques de Savoy, 
duke de Nemours. Her obligation to the 
memory of her former husband had been 
fully discharged. Coligni had purged himself 
in the most solemn manner from the reproach 
under which he had labored of being the au- 
thor of that foul murder. No further demand 
of "justice" could be made, and the duchess 
had already given her affections to one, said 
to be in every way worthy of her. It was a 
marriage which liigiily gratified the queen- 
mother and Charles IX. The nuptials were 



166 THE DUCHESS REN^E 

celebrated by the Cardinal of Lorraine. Ee- 
n6e was not present; and the Queen of Na- 
varre quitted the court, by reason of the injus- 
tice done to her relative Fran^oise de Rohan, 
a lady whom the Duke of Nemours had once 
pledged himself to marry. 

In anticipation of the union, of Anna d'Este 
■v^ith the Duke of Nemours, Catherine ad- 
dressed a letter to Een6e, assuring her therein, 
" that both she and the king her son, will take 
good care that there shall be nothing in the 
marriage contract injurious to the interests of 
the children of the Duchess of Guise, and that 
everything shall be arranged to the content- 
ment of Een^e, to whose inspection she prom- 
ises to submit the marriage articles, before 
anything shall be done, in order that her will 
may be made known concerning them." The 
crafty Catherine avails herself of this oppor- 
tunity to allude to " certain ministers touch- 
ing whom, the constable will converse with 
her," and skilfully refers to " the love which 
the Duchess of Ferrara has for the laws and 
ordinances of the king my son," and to her 
desire "to be foremost in setting a good 



AND HER COUllT. 167 

example to otliers." What the issue of this 
embassy was we have not been told. But 
that the duchess did not deliver her ministers 
into the hands of the constable may be most 
surely believed. His friendship with the 
Chatillons doubtless caused him to be select- 
ed for this errand, Een^e's regard for the ad- 
miral being no secret. The intolerance of the 
court had been already manifested at Mou- 
lins in the attempt to arrest the Protestant 
minister of the Queen of Navarre. Besides, 
there is little doubt that a general massacre 
of the Huguenots was already planned, and 
that Moulins would have been the scene of 
those horrors afterwards enacted at Paris in 
1572, " only that Coligni and the other chiefs 
came well attended, and the bloody deed was 
therefore adjourned to a better opportunity." 
Advanced in years and diseased in body,' 
Eenee was called to bear still another trial. 
This was the death of her friend and spiritual 
father, John Calvin. From the time when 
the Eeformer met the duchess in Ferrara, lie 
had not ceased to write to her, and there can 
be no doubt that Een6e sincerely mourned 



168 THE DUCHESS RENEE 

the bereavement caused by liis death. It is 
possible that his counsel was not in all prac- 
tical matters adhered to. Still, the earnest 
convictions of so vigorous a mind must have 
been a powerful support to Een6e in many a 
trying hour. How striking are the words of 
faith which are found in the last testament of 
this godly man : " With my whole soul I 
embrace the mercy w^hich He has exercised 
towards me through Jesus Christ atoning for 
my sins, with the merits of his death and pas- 
sion, that in this way he might satisfy for all 
my crimes and faults, and blot them from his 
remembrance." 

But the personal influence of Calvin was 
not needed to hold the Duchess Een^e to the 
faith, nor did the cessation of his earnest mo- 
nitions render her one whit the less desirous 
for its establishment among those over whom 
her legitimate influence extended. Every- 
where it was known that she longed for the 
success of the cause of truth and righteous- 
ness, and that her aid might be invoked in its 
behalf, not only in her own, but also in foreign 
lands. Of this there is interesting evidence 



AND HER COURT. 1G9 

in a letter adclressed to lier by the ministers 
of the Beformed church at Antwerp. 

" MADAiiiE : Inasmuch as we doubt not that you are 
well-informed by the report of several trustworthy 
persons, of what is the present condition of these 
low countries, and liow necessary it is at this time to 
labor there for the glory of God — (of which you have 
ever shown yourself the faithful and affectionate 
guardian in all your household, and the notable pa- 
tron to all those without) — moreover, the gentleness 
and kindness which are natural to you, the fruit of 
so many exceUent gifts which it hath ]3leased the 
Lord to impart unto you, for the joy and edification 
of his people, are sufficiently known to us. We have 
made bold to write to you this present epistle to en- 
treat your excellency to accord us this favor, which 
shall be to the great profit and advantage of all the 
country, as we hox^e that our brother and companion 
in the work of the Lord, M. Pierius, may, by your 
means, and with your permission, come here and help 
us in pursuing this work, which it has pleased God. 
to commence on this side, and that we also may com- 
municate with him and find consolation in the Lord. 
For, notwithstanding that in the present day many 
learned men are found to whom such numerous graces 
have been imparted by the goodness of God, that we 
have occasion continually to thank him therefor ; 
nevertheless, there are many reasons which lead us 
to seek this benefit from your excellency, and we 
hoiDe that they will weigh with you, that you may 



170 THE DUCHESS EEN:e E 

grant it to us the more freely. Especially as we desire 
to have a man, not only of learning and authority, 
but likewise of counsel, who by the usage and expe- 
rience of things past, might help us, and direct our 
course to some better furtherance, by this blessing 
of the Lord ; and this we have known him of a long 
season to possess, as he has shown in the great need 
and necessity of the parts in which he has been in 
France. Added to which, also, that he is one of the 
natural subjects of the king to whom we belong, 
which may be of great avail as well for the satisfac- 
tion and edification of this church in which he has 
long been known with great profit, as for the hin- 
derance of those reiDroaches, scandals, and calumnies, 
wherewith the enemies of the truth commonly arm 
themselves in order to traduce the gospel and blas- 
pheme the sacred name of God, as you know, ma- 
dame, and have seen by so many examples, even in 
our own times. Having considered which, we have 
agreed to make known to you by letter our desire 
and intention, hoj)ing that as the Lord has long given 
you grace to prove by a judgment truly royal and 
worthy of your line, so holy an affection, that also 
now you will effectually show in regard to our place 
that this same affection is neither grown cold, nor 
retarded by the distance of the country or other hke 
hinderances, but rather increased by the contempla- 
tion of the growth and advancement of the kingdom 
of God, whom we pray, madame, after having pre- 
sented to your excellency all obedience from your 
servants, that it may p»lease him to increase you more 



AND HER COURT. 171 

and more in his grace, and to endue you witli liis 
lioly blessing from on high. 

"From Antwerp, this Thursday, 28th May, 1566. 
"Your humble and obedient servants, 

(Signed.) " THE MINISTEES OF THE 

" CHUECH AT ANT WEEP." 

Not only was Ren^e called upon to aid in 
the work of reform abroad, bnt Montargis 
continued to be a secure asylum for the per- 
secuted Huguenots. The smouldering fires 
of civil v/ar needed only a breath to fan them 
into a flame. The conduct of the queen- 
mother inspired the minds of the Eeformed 
with utter distrust. "She was seen once 
more assisting with her sons at the ecclesi- 
astical processions; she removed from the 
court all the ladies who had ceased to attend 
the Roman-catholic services and ceremonies; 
vfherever the court appeared, no Protestant 
worship was permitted for many miles round. 
The Edict of Pacification was limited by par- 
tial arrangements, now in one way and now in 
another, without any respect to the complaints 
of the Huguenots, however well-grounded." 

The arrival of Alva in the Netherlands 
precipitated events. The government com- 



172 THE DUCHESS EENEE 

menced arming, under pretext of being pre- 
pared against possible invasion by the formi- 
dable general of Pliilip II. A few weeks 
revealed tbe truth, that the new levies, both 
of French and Swiss soldiers, were designed 
to crush the Huguenots. These, in their 
turn, leagued and armed in secret, determin- 
ed to take the initiative in offensive opera- 
tions. They concerted to surprise the court 
during its sojourn at Monceau, and to get 
possession of the king. They hoped by this 
means to free him from the influence of the 
Cardinal of Lorraine, and to procure the 
dismissal of the Swiss. But the project 
failed. The court escaped to Meaux, and 
then the counsel of the Duke of Nemours 
decided the king to proceed at once to' 
Paris. The duke made all the necessary ar- 
rangements, placing the king in the centre of 
the Swiss battalion, of which he took com- 
mand. With such a force confronting him, 
the Prince of Conde was obliged to fall back, 
and the failure of this rash scheme rendered 
the situation of the Huguenots more perilous 
than before. L'Hopital's influence was fruit- 



AND IIEIi CCUET. . 173 

less. Catherine was . hostile, and civil war 
began. The battle of St. Denis, although' 
contested warmly, was indecisive. Cond^ 
commanded the Huguenots, while the Con- 
stable de Montmorency commanded the army 
of the king and fell in the contest: religious 
zeal took the form of fanaticism, and the 
strife was so equally waged as to give neither 
party the hope of soon putting an end to the 
war. At last the Prince of Cond6 having 
received a strong military force, laid siege to 
Chartres, (Renee's duchy,) one of the grana- 
ries of Paris. But as soon as the hope of 
victory began to dawn on the Huguenots, the 
court resolved to delude them by overtures of 
peace. It offered the restoration of the former 
Edict of Pacification, but refused to grant 
guarantees of its performance. Cond6 and 
Coligni were not deceived by the demonstra- 
tions of the court, and represented to their 
followers the imprudence of lending ear to 
proposals which were only designed to be- 
guile them to their more complete destruc- 
tion. But they protested in vain. The Hu- 
guenot army and the German auxiliaries 



174 THE DUCHESS EEN^E 

loudly demanded tlie acceptance of the terms 
wliicli tlie conrt liad proposed to tliem. 

Unhappily at this junction, the death of the 
wife of Coligni summoned him away to Cha- 
tillon-sur-Loing, wdiere he had left her with 
their children, engaged, as we are told, in 
affectionate and intimate correspondence 
with her attached friend, the Duchess Ee- 
nee, on matters of mutual interest. Du- 
ring the admiral's absence, the opposite 
counsels in the Huguenot camp prevailed. 
The treaty of peace was signed, in spite of 
his just misgivings, at LoDgjumeau, on the 
20th March, 1568. 

Nothing was further from the intention of 
the court than the observance of the terms on 
which peace had been concluded with the 
Huguenots. The pope, the King of Spain, 
and the Catholic princes of Europe, blamed 
Catlierine de' Medici for the toleration accord- 
ed to the Keformed worship, in the renewal 
of the Edict of Pacification; but their cen- 
sure was unmerited. Catherine was playing 
a game that seemed likely to prove a success. 
The Treatj^ of Longjumeau v/as a mere decep- 



AND HEE COURT. 175 

tion, intended to lull the Huguenots into secu- 
rity ; that, when dispersed and disarmed, they 
might fall an easy prey to their enemies. The 
insincerity of the court was everywhere appa- 
rent. The Swiss troops were not sent back ; 
the Reformed worship was interdicted in all 
places belonging to the queen-mother, her 
sons, or the Duke of Montpensier. The 
Duke of Nemours refused to execute the 
conditions of the treaty in Lyons and Greno- 
ble. The pope praised him, and Catherine 
did not blame him for his disobedience. The 
Romanist populace committed frightful ex- 
cesses, and massacre of the helpless Hugue- 
nots, in several important towns, remained 
unnoticed by the ministers of the law, and 
unpunished. The Chancellor I'Hopital fell 
into disfavor with the court, for always insist- 
ing, in the council of the king, on the faithful 
observance of the treaties of peace. The 
seals were at last taken from him on the plea 
of his age, and given to another, Jean de 
Morvilliers. Cond6 and Coligni were com- 
manded to repaj^ to Catherine the sum of 
three hundred thousand crowns, which she 



176 THE DUCHESS EENEE 

had advanced to tlie German auxiliaries of 
tlie Reformed, at the conclusion of peace. 
The money was to be paid from their own 
private means; they were forbidden to avail 
themselves of the liberality of the Eeformed 
churches of France, for it was the ruin of the 
heads of the Huguenot party at which Cathe- 
rine aimed. Had there been a doubt of the 
nature of her intentions, it was dissipated, 
when it beca'me known that her ministers 
had demanded and obtained a bull from 
Eome, authorising the sale of the temporali- 
ties of the French church, to the amount of 
one hundred and fifty thousand livres annu- 
ally, the proceeds to be applied to the exter- 
mination of the Pveformed religion and its 
professors. 

Finally, Gond6 and Coligni received intelli- 
gence that their arrest had been determined 
upon, and that steps were being taken for 
their seizure. They immediately addressed a 
petition to the king, making known the griev- 
ances of the Huguenots, and the numerous 
violations of the recent treaty, the blame of 
which they threw upon the Cardinal of Lor- 



AND HER COURT. 177 

raine alone. They then, by a rapid move- 
ment, effected theh^ escape, with their fami- 
lies, to La Eochelle. On the other hand, the 
council of the king promulgated an edict at 
St. Maur, which the Parliament at once regis- 
tered, prohibiting on pain of death and con- 
fiscation of goods the exercise of the Re- 
formed religion throughout tl\e kingdom. Its 
ministers were ordered to quit France within 
fifteen days, and it was declared that pardon 
to the Huguenots for their past errors should 
only be granted on condition of their aban- 
doning them immediately. The edict attrib- 
uted all past concessions to necessity, and 
asserted that they had been made against 
the will of the king, who had resolved on 
revoking them as soon as circumstances 
should permit. There remained no alterna- 
tive to the Huguenots but an entire surren- 
der, or again to resort to arms.'. They chose 
the latter. 

The third war commenced under more fa- 
vorable auspices than the preceding. The 
Duke of Anjou, the king's brother, command- 
ed the Roman-catholic army, but did not offer 

'r«ie Duchess Eenee. 1 'Ji 



178 THE DUCHESS RENEE 

battle to the Huguenots tli rough the winter 
of 1568-9. At last, on the 13th of March, 
the fatal battle of Jarnac deprived the Re- 
formed of one of their gallant chiefs, Louis, 
prince of Cond^. About two months later, 
D'Andelot, brother of Coiigni, died of fever. 
The admiral gained some slight advantage 
over the enemy at La Roche-Abeille, but suf- 
fered loss at the siege of Poitiers, which he 
was eventually obliged to raise. The disaster 
at Moncontour, where Coiigni received three 
wounds and was defeated, seemed to crown 
the misfortune of the Huguenots. It was 
during this conflict, that Montargis ceased 
for awhile to be an asylum for the oppressed. 
The massacre of the Reformed at Orleans 
in the year 1569, caused the flight of all who 
were of " the religion," especially the women 
and children, from the towns and villages of 
the flat country, to their once serene retreat, 
in the hope of refuge from the cruel strife 
which was raging around them. This last 
concourse of Protestants at Montargis, v/e are 
told, stirred up the preachers of Paris, and 
they the king, to force Ren^e to turn away 



AND HER COXJET. 179 

four hundred and sixty persons, of wliom 
tvfo-thirds were women, and children at the 
breast. We are not left to imagine the grief 
of Eenc^e at the stern decree ; it is described 
to us. " Bursting into tears, she said to Mal- 
icorne, who again appears as the disturber of 
her peace, that if she had on her chin what 
he had on his, she would kill him with her 
own hands, as a messenger of death." 

The Duke of Alen9on is said to have been 
active in this evil work; giving the duchess 
to understand that plots were daily hatched 
at Montargis against his majesty, and desi- 
ring her not only to dismiss the Eeformed 
and their ministers, but to leave the exercise 
of the Eeformed religion, or else to remove to 
some other place. Eenee answered, " that 
she was too nearly related to the crown to be 
so ill-affected to it ; that those -to whom she 
gave a shelter were only a harmless and poor 
people, who meddled with nothing that could 
be of the least importance to the king's state ; 
that she could not leave a place v\^hich be- 
longed to her, and where she was resolved to 
ii^'e and die, v/ithout forsaking the exercise 



180 THE DUCHESS EEN^E 

of that religion which had been permitted to 
her by the king, and in which she had hith- 
erto been brought up." 

Brave as the answer, it v/as in vain. Eenee 
was obhged to dismiss most of those helpless 
ones who had taken shelter at Montargis. 
All that she could do to alleviate the hard- 
ship of their lot, she did with the generous 
devotion of her own noble heart. "Foras- 
much as there were several families, many 
women and a great number of young and of 
old people, all unable to go the long journeys 
they were forced to take, or else be at the 
mercy of those who waited only for an oppor- 
tunity to destroy them, she furnished this dis- 
tressed company with one hundred and fifty 
wagons, eight travelling coaches, and a great 
many horses — answering for the wagoners 
who carried the rest and their baggage." 

They had, however, hardly passed the Loire, 
when fresh dangers menaced them. A cap- 
tain of the E-oman-catholic army, with a 
troop of two hundred soldiers, was sent to 
massacre them. The ministers who escorted 
the fugitives, perceiving on a neighboring hill 



AND HER COURT. 181 

tlie approach of the enemy, threw themsehes 
on their knees with their timid flock, exhorted 
them to die with constancy, and began to sing 
a hymn. Their confidence had its immediate 
reward. Suddenly from the opposite quarter 
there appeared between two hills a body of 
eight hundred horsemen, under command of 
the Captain Du Bee de Bourrj^, a Huguenot, 
who was on his way with his troop from 
Bourges to La Charitd. He charged the foe 
unexpectedly, put them to flight, and escorted 
in safety to the latter place the trembling- 
troop of fugitives from Montargis. 

No w^onder that Benee longed, and prayed, 
and labored for peace. The bravery and 
skilful generalship of Coligni raised the Hu- 
guenot cause from the lowest state of depres- 
sion after the defeat at Moncontour. He was 
still enabled to maintain the struggle, for his 
name inspired confidence, and brave men ralli- 
ed round him, proud to fight under so worthy 
a commander. An able writer says of him : 

"He never, indeed, had that singular joy- 
ousness of spirits which Ccnd6 had, but 
always a serene strength of heart, which per- 



132 THE DUCHESS RENEE 

liaps on the whole was as effective for him- 
self and for others, the settled determination 
of a man who had counted the cost of his 
cause before he engaged in it, and was pre- 
pared to pay it to the uttermost." He win- 
tered in Languedoc, and refused two several 
offers of peace from the court, because they 
would not concede sufficient toleration. But 
the court was w^eary of the war; the Hugue- 
not party was stronger in the field than ever ; 
and the king, impatient to commence a life of 
festivity and indulgence, was restrained by an 
impoverished treasury. He was jealous of 
his brother, the Duke of Anjou, and the other 
leaders of the Eoman-catholic party were 
hkewise jealous of each other. Their divis- 
ions aided the cause of peace, and Coligni 
having received guarantees of a satisfactory 
nature for the fulfilment of the treaty, signed 
it at La Charite on the 8th of August, 1570. 
A new Edict of Pacification, drav\^n up in 
conformity with the provisions of this treaty, 
was published, and immediately registered in 
all the courts of the kingdom. " It was more 
favorable to the Eeformed than the preceding 



AND HER COUET. 183 

ones. It gave them liberty of worsliip in all 
the places wliich were in their possession, 
and in addition, two towns of every province 
for the celebration of service ; an amnesty for 
the past; eqnal right of admission to public 
offices; permission to reside in any part of 
the kingdom without being molested on ac- 
count of religion, and four hostage-towns to 
be held by the Huguenot troops for two 
years — La Rochelle, La Charity, Cognac, and 
Montauban. 

But though hostilities had ceased for a 
space, the two parties were not reconciled. 
The Reformed had suffered loss in moral 
force, in numbers, and in political influence, 
by the civil wars, and the bitter strife had 
deepened the hatred of their adversaries 
against them. Catherine was at no pains to 
conceal her enmity. Peace had been signed, 
but vengeance was meditated. The cruel 
counsel of the Duke of Alva had never been 
forgotten. " Kill the leaders, for ten thou- 
sand frogs are not worth the head of a sal- 
mon." Nevertheless a seeming calm prevail- 
ed, and the more unwary began to hope. 



184 THE DUCHESS RENEE 

The Seventh National Synod assembled at 
La Kochelle in the spring of 1571. The. 
chiefs of the Huguenots were present, and 
took part in the deliberations. From the 
business 'of this conference the venerable Co- 
ligny was summoned to the councils of Charles 
IX., who received him with every mark of re- 
spectful affection. Popular infractions of the 
Edict of St. Germain were duly furnished, 
but as time passed, less favorable indications 
manifested themselves. Meanwhile, Ken^e 
dwelt at Montargis, feeble in health and ad- 
vanced in years, but still earnest as ever in 
desiring the instruction of ministers for her- 
self and others. A glimpse of the duchess' 
inner life we obtain from the following letter 
addressed to her by a Huguenot minister 
named Toussain, which also throws a little 
light on the state of religion in Rente's 
neighborhood at the period in which it was 
written. 

"Madame: I believe that your excellency hears 
daily of the vexations which are practised on those 
who come hither from Orleans to hear the word of 
God, which caiise has hindered me, and all the more 



AND HER COUET. "JS5 

that I am alone, from travelling until now, for if the 
means of doing so had not been cut off from me by 
continual occupation, I should not have delayed so 
long going to Montargis in order to present myself 
before your excellency, since you have done me the 
honor to desire and command me to do so. Above 
all, I have greatly regretted not having been able to 
visit your excellency when you were indisposed, in 
consequence of having been myself seized at that very 
time v/ith an illness which confined me for several 
days to the house. Now it a^jpears that the Lord 
our God looks upon us with a more favorable eye, 
and will vouchsafe during this springtide to revive 
the state of our church, which has been, as it were, 
dead ; for it hath pleased the majesty of our king to 
make so many and such express commands to the 
people of Orleans to leave us peaceably to enjoy the 
exercise of our religion in this place, that those peo- 
ple, hitherto so seditious, have begun to grow more 
gentle, so that we have been able to celebrate the 
Lord's Supper for two Sundays, Vvith a large compa- 
ny, and I hope that henceforth I may be able some- 
times on the Mondays to go to Montargis, to render 
you the very humble service which I owe you, pray-^ 
ing the good God, madame, that fortifying you daily' 
in all bodily and spiritual strength, he may preserve 
you to a long and very happy life. 

"From ITsle les Orleans, this 15th April, 1572. 
' ' Your excellency's very humble and 

" Obedient servant, 

'•D. TOUSSIIN." 




CHAPTEK XIY. 

Renee and her daughter, the Duchess of Nemours— The 
Princess Urbino — Lucrezia d'Este — Leonora d'Este — Last 
days of Renee. 

S'ftrOTWITHSTANDING the perplexi- 




ties that surrounded Een^e, affec- 
p^//K'i^ tionate intercourse between herself 
and her daughter, the Duchess of Nemours, 
had never been broken. Although Ben^e 
was herself obliged to practise the strictest 
economy in order to permit of a princely hos- 
pitality, and was defrauded of her rights and 
otherwise set aside, her daughter Anna d'Este 
was always ready to go before the king and 
his council, and secure by her diligence, as 
Y/ell as through the great influence of her 
husband's family, more advantageous terms 
than would otherwise been granted to her 
mother's claims. The " idol of a court," 



THE DUCHESS EENEE. 187 

Ducliess Anna did not disdain the details of 
less exalted occupations. At one time, she 
writes to her mother in behalf of a Monsieur 
Miron, the seigneur of St. Prest, who owes 
Kenee " a fine for his marriage, and has wish- 
ed to compound for it with the Sieur Gondy, 
who makes his demand for it at a very high 
rate. 

" However," she continues, " the said Miron, 
fearing lest his lands should be seized, has 
offered him as much as six hundred livres, 
v/hicli is equal to two fines. And because the 
said Gondy objects to admit him at that com- 
position, he has betaken himself to me in 
order to obtain some favor from you, which I 
very humbly beseech jon to grant him, ma- 
dame, since he and his predecessors have 
always been your servants, and servants of 
all our house, and I should like to be able to 
gratify them in some matter. And you will 
write, if you please, to the said Sieur Gondy, 
sa3dng what it is your pleasure that he should 
do in this matter, which again I request of 
you very humbly, that the said Miron may 
know that this letter has been of some use to 



188 THE DUCHESS RENEE 

him, and that he may have so much the more 
cause to render you very humble service. 
From Paris, this 25th June, 1571." 

At another time the Duchess of Nemours 
forwards to Ren^e a memorial presented to 
her by a sergeant of Montargis, who threat- 
ens a remonstrance to the privy council if 
his suit be unattended to, and implores her 
mother to see to it without delay, and to ad- 
vise her as to the reply to be given, in order 
that she may obviate any disagreeable conse- 
quences that may possibly ensue. 

That she did not always limit her interfe- 
rence to matters equally harmless, may not 
seem so strange. Political intrigue, the bane- 
ful companionship of Catherine de' Medici, 
her own relationship to the Guises, and the 
deplorable state of the French court and 
society at that period, had all lent their per- 
nicious influence toward the perversion of the 
once promising Anna d'Este. Sad it is to 
contrast what she was v/ith what she became, 
when years spent in such debasing inter- 
course had done their work upon her. Faulty 
as she might be, her letters give us to under- 



AND HER COURT. 189 

stand that she was still influenced by filial 
love and duty, while it is evident Benc^e clung 
to her with all a mother's tenderness, such as 
a child's offences, however aggravated, have 
seldom power to diminish. 

Her second husband, Jacques de Savoy, 
duke of Nemours, though by no means free 
from reproach, contrasts favorably with some 
of the leading men of his party. In 1569 he 
had been charged, in conjunction with the 
Duke d'Aumale, to oppose the passage of 
the Loire by the troops which the Duke de 
Deux Ponts was leading to the succor of the 
Huguenots. This enterprise failed through 
the stubbornness of D'Aumale, and Nemours, 
fearing that the Guises would throw the whole 
blame on him, and being also worn out with 
fatigue, retired to his duchy of Genevois^ 
where he sought distraction from his troubles 
of body and mind in the cultivation of letters 
and the fine arts. The correspondence of 
Ren6e with the Duke of Nemours leaves no 
room to doubt the kindly regard entertained 
by her for her son-in-law. At the close of 
one of the letters written from Montargis, 



190 THE DUCHESS EENeE 

the 26tli day of June, 1572, we find the fol- 
lowing postscript : 

"My Son : I would not forget to tell you, that, if 
God preserves me in health, I shall very soon be re- 
turning to the court, having been invited by the king, 
and the queen his mother, to the nuptials of madame 
your niece, and again afterwards at Fontainebleau, 
where the queen is to be confined, which will be at 
the time when I assure myself that, if it please God, 
you will also be there. 

"Your good mother, 

"Een]6e of FEANCE." 

From this note the question will arise, "Was 
Eende present at the ill-omened nuptials of 
Henry of Navarre ? "Was she doomed to wit- 
ness the horrors of St. Bartholomew's day in 
Paris, on the 24th of the same month ? The 
note clearly proves that Rente's speedy return 
to court was contemplated, and that it depend- 
ed solely upon the state of her health. If 
Ben6e had been then at court, would Anna 
d'Esto have dared to plot with Catherine de' 
Medici the assassination of her mother's old 
and trusted friend, the brave Coligni ? Could 
she have risked the sight of her mother's 
tears? Could she have endured to listen to 
the condemnation with which that mother 



AND HEK COUET. lUl 

would have denounced sitcli a fearful deed? 
It is possible, schooled in deceit, and with the 
fierce blood of Italy flowing in her veins, Anna 
d'Este had learned to look unshrinkingly upon 
many things from which she would have turned 
with horror in her youth. Who would suspect 
complicity in crime in the author of the fol- 
lowing letter? 

"to mada]\ie, the duchess dowages of fbeeaea. 

"Madaiie: Not having had any tidings of yon 
since yonr arrival at Montargis, I liave determined to 
send you this ' laqnais, ' by whom I very humbly en- 
treat you to write me intelligence of yourself and of 
your state, also if you have heard anything of mon- 
sieur my husband; because, since the time when I' 
was given to understand that he would be setting out 
on his journey hither, I have had no certain informa- 
tion as to whether he will continue his Journey, or 
whether, indeed, he have deferred it, having heard 
of what has taken place. I have indeed heard that 
he set out on the 25th from Cliazay, and nothing 
more. Here things seem to be very peaceable, and 
no murder is committed, nor act of offence, that I 
have heard of, continued to be done to any x^erson. 
And it is hoped that all will go on still better, by 
means of an ordinance which was yesterday publish- 
ed, Vvdiereby the king enjoins upon all the wardsmen 
of the city to put in writing the names, titles, and 



192 THE DUCHESS EEN^E 

residences of all tliosfe wlio are of 'The Eeligion,' 
and to give up to liim the lists which shall be made 
of them, to be placed in the hands of whomsoever 
his majesty shall please to ordain, with j)rohibition 
to injure them or to slander them on pain of death, 
which edict is only to set them free from prison, and 
to secure them from heavy fine. I will send you the 
ordinance as soon as it shall be printed, as I will not 
fail to do with all other edicts and ordinances which 
shall be issued hereupon. For the rest, madame, 
having heard the pleading of your proctor in the 
court of Parliament, I determined to propose to you 
Maitre Julien Chauveau, who is our proctor, an hon- 
est man, and from whom, if it should please you to 
do him so much favor and honor as to give him your 
letters of attorney, I will venture to assure that you 
will have entire satisfaction and service. And I pray 
you very humbly to believe, that if I did not know 
him to be worthy of this charge, I would not propose 
him to you, nor make to you this very humble re- 
quest ; but the knowledge I have of his good will, 
probity, and diligence, causes me to entreat this very 
humbly from you, and that it may please you to do 
me the honor to signify to me your good pleasure 
hereupon. Madame, with regard to my health, it 
appears to me that for three nights passed I have 
had better rest than I have been accustomed to, 
which has brought me much amendment, and the 
hope of very soon seeing myself in all health and 
prosperity, to do you the humble and very affection- 
ate service which I owe to you. 



AND HER COURT 193 

"Madame, I sui3i3licate in tliis place the Creator 
to grant you, in perfect health, a very happy and a 
very long life. 

''Prom Paris, this 11th September, 1572. 
" Yonr very humble and very 

" Obedient daughter and servant, 

"ANNA D'ESTE." 

"Madame : I have resolved, seeing that I have no 
tidings of monsieur, my husband, to send this ' la- 
quais' farther on, to bring me back news of him, 
praying you to send me yours. I have obtained the 
edict, which I send you, and pray you very humbly 
to pardon me for not writing to you with my own 
hand. I have not yet found out how to regain pos- 
session of the Sceur de la — ; for those who detain 
her, when they found that we were stirring in the 
matter, have disclaimed knowledge of her. I send 
Arragon there every day, and I will do what I can to 
get her out, and I am deliberating if I can to-day 
send for the secretary of the Prince Dauphin, and 
fipeak to him myself, and then I will advise you of 
everything. I very humbly kiss your hands." 

History hardly leaves room for doubt that 
the murder of the venerable Coligni had the 
sanction of Anna d'Este, and if so, there is 
something fearful in the serenity, the calm 
composure in which she writes to her mother. 
The edict of which she speaks so favorably, 
was doubtless an artifice of the court, which. 

Duchess Kenee. lo 



194 THE DUCHESS KEN^E 

after the massacre of St. Bartholomew, was 
at a loss how to explain or to justify its bar- 
barous work in the eyes, not alone of France, 
but of Europe and the whole Christian world. 
The history of St. Bartholomew's day is too 
well known to need repetition. If in truth 
Anna d'Este was one of the perpetrators, she 
must have felt that a retributive Providence 
found her out. Later we are told of Henry 
Duke of Guise, assassinated in the castle of 
Blois by command of Henry III., who, as 
Duke of Anjou, had been one of the chief 
accomplices of Guise in the plot against the 
lives of Coligni and the Eeformed. Then it 
was that Anna d'Este, when brought prisoner 
to Blois, after the murder of her sons, the 
duke and the cardinal, appealed in touching 
terms to the memory of her mother: "O 
mother! when your father built these walls, 
you did not expect that my children would 
have been hacked to pieces therein !" 

That we may know still more of the last 
days of Kenee, we desire to insert another 
letter, more especially as it brings to our no- 
tice the name of Lucrezia, princess of Urbino ; 



AND HEK COUET. 195 

sli owing that the mother's heart still beat with 
love and tenderness for her absent daughters. 
It is directed to Anna, Duchess of Nemours. 

" My Daughtee : Having received your letter, and 
before the letters delivered by this bearer, another 
which T had from you and my son, Monsieur de Ne- 
mours, to which I was intending to send you both 
presently an answer, M. Franco Novello has returned 
to me to obtain instructions concerning the manu- 
script books of my daughter the Princess of Urbino, of 
which you have often spoken to me. He has em- 
ployed so much solicitation and research about the 
matter, that I have spent much time listening to him, 
and deferred writing to you until I might be able to 
inform you of all that took i)lace with him, which is, 
that having been lately in Paris, I caused a minute to 
be drawn up at Versori's touching the said manuscript 
books, which I thought at that time to have commu- 
nicated to you ; but your illness and my departure 
prevented my having the oj)portunity to do this. 
Also, I deferred writing, waiting still until the con- 
firmation was passed, that I might not further dis- 
IDlace my son, and for the continuance of the good 
and perfect understanding among you all, my chil- 
dren, such as I know, my daughter, to be your wish. 
But the solicitation which the said Novello has con- 
tinued, having in his possession a power of attorney 
and articles with which he presented me on his re- 
turn from Paris, has been so great — added to which 
a packet has come to hand, . addressed to liim, in 



196 THE DUCHESS EEN:6E 

which were letters for him from my said daughter, 
your sister, and also for me, advising me of what has 
happened there, which Bellanger will relate to you 
from me — all which has caused him to redouble his 
urgency. I have shown to the said Novello the said 
minute drawn up at Paris, after his having promised 
me not to speak of it to any one but my said daugh- 
ter, which minute when he had seen, he was sure 
that neither my said daughter nor any one in that 
quarter would be satisfied with it ; likewise, that by 
virtue of his power of attorney and articles which he 
had in possession, he could not accept it ; upon which 
he drew up one which I could not accept. I deliver- 
ed hi^n another to take to my said daughter d'Urbino, 
that she may acquaint me with her opinion of it. I send 
to you the duplicate of the said minutes and articles, 
which you can look at and deliberate upon, in order 
to advise me of what shall seem to be for the best ; 
and whether the consent of my son, your brother, 
would not be necessary, seeing the concessions that 
you have both made. For the rest, I experience 
great regret at the dei^arture of my son, M. de Ne- 
mours, and at not having been able to see him here 
with our son, De Genevois. Concerning the little 
boy, I have charged the said Bellanger to tell you 
that if you will send him to me I shall most willingly 
receive him. I have likewise spoken to him of a 
plan very necessary for the health of our said grand- 
son, and for my own, should any pestilence or illness 
occur in this place, and of a certain thing which has 
already been jpromised to me. 



AND HER COURT. 197 

"My daughter, I have received yonr letter by the 
bearer, Bellanger, and the duplicate of my instruc- 
tions concerning the manuscript books, for which I 
thank you to the best of my ability, and gTieve much 
for the trouble which the said bearer tells me you 
have taken. We must cause the said copy to be au- 
thenticated in the ' Chambre des Comptes,' and when 
it is authenticated, we must take counsel as to the 
most ready means of payment which shall |)resent 
itself, whether by purchase of land or other assign- 
ments. It is true that it would be a long time to 
wait till the king should receive two hundred thou- 
sand hvres, and the pious and charitable works paid 
for, and the debts discharged — ^but also I fear that if 
they valued an estate at too high a price, I could not 
satisfy the demands of the creditors. I believe that 
nothing will be given up by the commissioners on 
this side [the mountains ?] who will remit the whole 
to the king, in order to bring the affair to a close, and 
to come to a decision. I hope to see you soon at 
Fontainebleau, and to talk to you of what shall be 
needful for many purposes, concerning which I can- 
not write to you. And immediately after Easter I 
will hold myself in readiness to start on my journey 
thither, when you send me word to do so. Meanwhile 
I send you the answer to the letters, which my said 
son M. de Nemours, your husband, has written to 
nie. Intrusting the rest to the said BeUanger, I 
pray God, my daughter, to give you all the hap^oiness 
and satisfaction that you can desire. 

"From Montargis, this 12th day of March, 1573." 



198 THE DUCHESS llENEE 

Lucrezia d'Este, Een6e's second daugliter, 
and the one to whom reference has been 
made, was married at Ferrara, 1571, to Fran- 
cesco Maria, eldest son and heir of Guido 
Baldo, dnke of Urbino. "The nuptials" are 
said to have been "celebrated with great 
splendor, and with chivalric games and other 
festivities." Her dowry had been prospect- 
ively augmented and settled upon her for her 
sole and separate use, by her mother, but not 
payable until after the Duchess Een^e's de- 
cease. Disparity of age and taste rendered 
this union unhappy, and in little more than 
two years Lucrezia returned to Ferrara, with 
a distinct understanding that she was not 
again to appear at the court of her husband. 

At " the elegant court of her brother, Al- 
fonzo II.," we are told that Lucrezia "was 
chiefly distinguished as the promoter and 
inspirer of literature and music, and as the 
especial patroness of Tasso." 

The youngest daughter of Eenee, Leonora 
d'Este, will ever be romem^bered in connection 
with the genius and misfortunes of Torquato 
Tasso. She was greatly beloved at Ferrara, 



AND HER COURT. 199 

and was regarded "as so jDure and holy a 
creature, that the dehveranco of that city 
from an mundation was ascribed to her 
prayers." Her physical constitution was 
" delicate," and her manners " quiet and reti- 
ring," but she shared with her sister Lucre- 
zia the "stronger qualities of mind;" for we 
are told that during the absence of her broth- 
er Alfonso II., she administered the affairs of 
government to the complete satisfaction of the 
people. 

Separated from her daughters, Eende par- 
ticipated in all their sorrows, and failed not 
to make known to them her sympathy and 
her love. But her life was ebbing away; for 
years her health had been feeble, and the 
anxieties of her position, the perplexities con- 
sequent on the state of her private affairs, the 
personal exertions demanded of her, to say 
nothing of the bitter sorrow at the wrong and 
injustice of many she loved — all these causes 
aided in wearing out a body " never strong." 
Death was not an unwelcome messenger. Her 
trust was firm and strong; in her youth she 
had given herself to the Eedeemor, and in 



200 THE DUCHESS KEN]EE. 

her age she felt the strong support, the com- 
fort, the assurance that he was not only able, 
but willing to save to the uttermost. She 
died at Montargis, in the sixty-fifth year of 
her age. 

The ambassadors of the Duke of Ferrara 
notified this event to the Court of Parliament, 
while to the queen-mother the communication 
was made by the Duke de Nemours. Cathe- 
rine did not play the hypocrite; she was se- 
renely indifferent. "The court of Ferrara 
put on mourning for the dowager-duchess, 
but did not celebrate her obsequies." 

E;en(^e was interred in the church belonging 
to the Castle of Montargis. More than a 
century afterwards a local historian writes: 
" One may there see her armorial bearings 
and cipher." The arms were those of France 
and Ferrara; the cipher or device, an E, 
crowned with innumerable fleurs-de-lis on the 
right and ermines on the left; the legend con- 
taining in brief the following words : 

"Een6e de France, Duchesse de Chartres, 
Comtesse de Gisors et Dame de Montargis." 



